


Home By Now

by LieutenantLiv



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Eggsy is a small cinnamon roll, Fluff and Angst, Harry and Eggsy have stuff to work through but they're perfect, Harry is a Little Shit, M/M, so whatever, the end is really intense but dont worry they dont die, there's a lot of fluff in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 15:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantLiv/pseuds/LieutenantLiv
Summary: Having your mentor die and come back to life is fucking unsettling. Realising that you've probably loved him this whole time just adds another layer of stress.Eggsy shows Harry the world of Nandos, dancing to Common People, and they both *almost* die on a mountain. Just normal British things.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been two months. It had been two whole months without Harry Hart. Eggsy had spent his whole life without the man. But suddenly, living without him now was just a lot more difficult. 

Perhaps it had been because he’d watched him die- watched the feed from his glasses suddenly stop as the bullet shattered the glass. Maybe it was because Harry was the closest thing to real family he’d had since his dad had died. Or maybe it was just shock. Either way, Eggsy wasn’t that OK. 

He'd had practice, at least. A fair few people in his area would be shot. Arrested. Stabbed. He’d grieved for friends, and people he’d walked past everyday until suddenly there weren’t there anymore. But Harry Hart- he was different. Like a knight in shining fucking armour, he’d ridden in with his stupid bullet proof umbrella and showed him his true potential. At Kingsman, Eggsy was the man he was meant to be, and that was all down to the stupid, posh man who’d decided to die two months ago. With all the other people he’d known that had died, he’d at least had some emotional distance. They hadn’t been family, or his mentor, saviour. Whatever you want to call it. His dad had died for him. At the time, it had almost felt like Lee had sent Harry to him; I won’t be there for you, son, but this man will be, however you need him. And then he just went and fucking died.

Every morning when he woke up. Every morning, it was the first thing that popped into Eggsy’s head. 

_You could have been there. He didn’t have to be alone. He saved you, you could have saved him._

It all just seemed so fucking pointless, now. There were a few things in his life keeping him going, though. Like his gorgeous little sister, Daisy. His mum was in rehab- he needed to, wanted to support her. And even without Harry, there was Kingsman. Roxy, the lovely, terrifying Roxy; Merlin; daft, posh Gawain and stern but hilarious Percival. Even the medical staff- Eggsy had become quite close with his doctor, Naja, after having quite a few run ins over the past two months. She would half joke that he had self-sabotaging tendencies. He laughed, but didn’t argue. 

Getting up with these thoughts running through his head wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it took him too long to roll out of bed. Today, though- today, Daisy had woken up with him and was crying next door. With a forlorn smile, Eggsy padded to his little sister’s room. He’d bought a new apartment- nothing too flashy, not like Harry’s place. Old place, he should say. No, it was pretty standard. A lot better than what he and his mum had had before, though. It was in Islington, and not an especially fancy part either. As much as Eggsy had started to enjoy the finer things in life, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable living somewhere that he wasn’t used to. He couldn’t live near Saville Row- a walk to work from Fitzrovia sounded nice, but he knew who he was, where he’d come from. And living anywhere too nice made him feel genuinely uncomfortable. 

Daisy seemed to like it here, too, he thought, as he picked her out of her cot and gave her a quick cuddle whilst making tea. Not that she’d care much, he figured. She was only 9 months old. 

Converted gentleman or not, Kingsman’s poshness was about as much as Eggsy could take. Especially the company. He’d grown to love most of the knights. It had taken time to get to know Gawain and Percival, since they’d both been abroad on missions when he’d been taken on as the new Galahad. And, after their return, they’d been pretty torn up about losing their friend, Harry. Now, though, they saw what Harry had seen in him. He wasn’t posh, no- but he was a good agent, and a good laugh. Eggsy had to admit, Gawain was brilliant. He thought he’d hate him at first, considering how rich and posh he was. But, it became very quickly apparent that Gawain was more of a Bertie Wooster than a Wanker. He was the sort of guy who always had a drink in his hand, was barely comprehensible by how posh he spoke, and was ridiculously camp. Was it because he was gay, or was he just so posh he seemed gay? Eggsy couldn’t tell. 

Percival- well, Percival was pretty severe. Eggsy and he didn’t really talk. But they respected each other and would give each other a brief nod as a greeting whenever they passed each other in the corridor. From what he’d seen of Percival in social situations, that was about as close to glowing affection as he’d get from the man. 

Roxy was Eggsy’s best friend. As well as Jamal and Ryan, obviously. In fact, the three got on famously, though they were both a bit scared of Roxy, bless ‘em- not that Eggsy could blame them. She was one of those people who could read his mind. They would pass looks at each other in the middle of meetings and somehow they just understood each other. 

Daisy burped ominously. “Please don’t throw up, I just cleaned these pyjamas, Dais.” She didn’t, thankfully. She was at that stage where babies looked shocked and confused by everything, eyes wide and amazed, looking around the kitchen. It was hilarious and adorable, and Eggsy had about 300 pictures on his phone of her at this age. 

He poured his tea, looking out the window with his sister. He watched his neighbours pop into Coop across the road. The sky was dark over the city- a great view from this flat. 

“Looks like it’s going to rain, Daisy-Doo. Shall we get some breakfast in our bellies? Yeh?”

Daisy blew a raspberry in response. 

“Me too.”

He placed the baby in her high chair and fetched her baby food and plastic Winnie the Pooh plate. This was always a fun game- would the food go in her mouth, or would it be smeared on his own face? Eggsy was betting today that it would end up on the floor. 

Daisy grabbed a hand full of food before Eggsy had a chance to spoon it to her. She threw it. Up onto the ceiling it went. He looked up. 

“Huh. That’s a new one. I owe you a fiver, Dais.”

He fetched a cloth from under the sink, when he stood up right, he was stopped short. A photo of him and Harry on the day he’d passed the parachute test. He was wearing that stupid tweed onesie, JB in his arms. Harry had his arm round his shoulders, looking… happy. As happy as Harry ever looked. Eggsy loved this photo. He’d never seen him look like that again. 

With a sniff and a brisk head shake, Eggsy dispersed his thoughts. He should get rid of that picture. Or, at least hide it. 

Deep breaths, Eggsy. You’re doing fine. 

The vibrations of his phone broke him out of his moment anxiety. 

“Jamal? What’s up, bruv.”

“Not much, yeh, just checkin’ in. Goin’ skateboardin’ tonight if you wanna join. Once you’ve finished you, er, tailorin’, or whatever the fuck it is you’re doin’.”

“Aight. Southbank, yeh?”

“Yeh, yeh. How’s Daisy?”

“Aw, she’s aight. Cheeky little one, ain’t ya?” He gave Daisy a little tickle. “I’ll ask Rox to watch her. You two wanna come round for tea after?”

“Yeh why not.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Listen, Jay. You know you don’t need to keep checkin’ on me, right?”

“Ughhhhh. Eggsy, ain’t nothin’ wrong with your mates wanting a knees up and a brew, yeh? We just know you’ve been through a lot, losing your boss like that. Ain’t doin’ anything different, really are we? Just talking a little more.”

He let out a long breath. “Yeh, yeh. ‘Spose. See you tonight, gotta get goin’.”

“Alright mate, see you tonight. Later.”

“Later.”

Eggsy placed the phone on the table. Then, he gently laid his head down, condensation from his breath making his lips and nose wet. Daisy gurgled in the background.

“Dais. I’m gonna be alright, aren’t I? Not everyone I know is going to die, are they?”

A neatly timed raspberry was blown. 

“Yeh.”

There was a tight rap on the door, which caused Eggsy to sit upright. Had he ordered anything recently? He didn’t think anyone would come round at this time. Grabbing his dressing gown and giving Daisy a quick kiss on the top of her head- he swore the smell of her little head was slowly curing him- he padded down the corridor, wearing a little frown. Out of habit, he looked through the peep-hole. 

A man. In an impeccable suit. Who looked, even from behind, with his head turned, remarkably like…

As the door opened, there, standing brazenly on his door mat, in the grey morning light, was Harry Hart. He turned to look at Eggsy. He looked the same as ever. Hair combed back perfectly, glasses framing dark, gentle eyes. Posture stiff, leaning on a trusty umbrella. Oxfords, not brogues. A small scar above his eye.

All Eggsy could do was let his mouth hang open. 

“Eggsy. Good morning.”

Eggsy blinked, took a deep breath. Opened his eyes again. Yes- there was Harry Hart, one eyebrow raised in expectation for some sort of response. 

“You’re- you’re alive…”

Harry tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Was his heart beating? He wasn’t sure. His mouth was dry. His mouth was hanging open again. 

“Eggsy, are you quite alright?” That sweet little smile. Fucking bastard.

“Are _you_ alright?” It came out as a whisper. He cleared his throat. His whole life was turning upside down. Again. Why was it always Harry Hart?

“Oh, yes- just a flesh wound,” he said, touching his scar. 

They stared at each other for a few moments. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, lighting the specks of rain that were beginning to fall. 

Fucking bastard.

Eggsy’s fist met Harry’s cheekbone before Harry could respond. He was an agent too, after all. The man’s head snapped round with the force, accompanied by an “Ooof”. 

Eggsy shook his hand out. His cheekbones were as sharp as the looked then. Ow. 

“You fucking arsehole. Where the fuck have you been all this time?”

“I suppose I deserved that,” Harry muttered, rubbing his now pink cheek. 

“Where. The fuck. Have. You. Been.”

“Hiding, till the time was right.”

“Till the time was-? Harry, we had a fucking funeral for you. When we got to Kentucky we thought you was taken, by Valentine’s men. You was dead.”

“Well, evidently not,” Harry said, a little grumpily.

“Don’t you fucking sass me, you was dead.” He turned his back and paced down the corridor, leaving the door open for Harry to follow.

“Again, Eggsy, I’m clearly not dead.”

“Where the fuck were you? Where did you go?”

“Are you just going to ask the same question over and over?” Harry said wearily, which wasn’t very fair, since he was being an absolute arsehole. Fucker even had the gall to sit down at his table in the kitchen, opposite Daisy.

“Why aren’t you answering any of them?”

“It’s easier if I don’t go into it right now, Eggsy, my boy. Right now, all you need to know is I’m alive and well.” He smiled. 

Maybe it was too embarrassing. Maybe he got shot in the eye and he had a glass eye or something. Either fucking way, this was not on. 

“Not OK, Harry. This is not fucking OK.” Eggsy aggressively threw some readybrek into a bowl, slamming it inside the microwave. Daisy still bore her surprised expression. He couldn’t blame her.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded genuine. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“Course you fucking didn’t. Couldn’t ask the best fucking agents in the country to help you, could you?”

“This isn’t really the time to explain, Eggsy.”

“Not the fucking time?” He slammed his dirty cup in the dishwasher. Daisy didn’t seem perturbed at all. She waved a chubby hand at Harry, who gazed at her with a baffled smile. “When’s the right fucking time then, Harry?”

“Oh, at some point, I suspect. We’ll see.”

Eggsy’s dressing gown had undone itself in the anger and slamming around, his pyjamas on show. Energy drained out of him, dishevelled, he slumped in the chair next to the, apparently alive, Harry.

“You’re alive.”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other again, not quite believing that they were seeing each other. Eggsy grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. 

“You’re alive.” 

“Yes,” Harry repeated, vaguely uncomfortable with the contact.

“Don’t you fucking do that again.”

“I’ll do my best.” Eggsy felt Harry return the hug, hand resting between his shoulder blades. 

The hug lasted a good ten seconds. Ten minutes ago, Harry Hart was dead. And yet, here he was. 

 

It turned out that no one else at Kingsman knew that Harry was alive. Eggsy had figured that he would have contacted Merlin, at least- but apparently, the first place he had turned up was Eggsy’s door, which was inexplicable (“I felt we’d left things slightly on edge before I left for America. I thought I’d come mend the broken bonds” was all Harry had to offer as an explanation). Eggsy had been due to go to HQ that evening for a meeting with Merlin, so Harry decided to just, tag along with him, as if it wouldn’t blow everyone’s minds when he appeared on Kingsman’s doorstep. 

It did blow everyone’s minds. A few of the crew were taking a tea-break before the meeting, sitting in a communal sitting room near the entrance. Eggsy had opened the topic with “Right, now, everyone, just- don’t freak out, but-” and Harry just fucking sauntered in and helped himself to a cup of tea. Roxy screamed and covered her mouth in shock; Merlin just looked baffled; Gawain physically rubbed his eyes. Percival said blandly, “What the ever-loving fuck?”

Just as he offered no explanation to Eggsy, the rest of them were left equally frustrated. Merlin was the first to give up, having known Harry for longest and realising he wouldn’t reveal anything he didn’t want to. Their meeting began with a rather unsettled buzz, before they moved onto their next case. All the while, Harry just sat there, patiently listening, asking who the next Arthur was, to which the response was ‘no one yet’. 

Merlin and Harry spoke alone for a few minutes. Good friends though they were, Eggsy figured Harry might be getting a firm fucking talking to from Merlin. 

“Eggsy,” Roxy called. She jogged up to him, carrying a fresh mug of tea in her hands. “Harry’s alive, then.”

“I fucking know.”

“Did he tell you where he’s been?”

“No- why would he tell me, if he ain’t going to even tell Merlin?” He snorted.

Roxy didn’t answer that question. “What an arse.”

“Tell me about it. Fucking punched him in the face when I found him on my porch.”

Roxy laughed. “I’m not bloody surprised. That would have been my first move, too. Probably a kick in the balls for good measure.” And that was why Eggsy loved Roxy. 

And suddenly, as if he knew he were being spoken about, Harry appeared at his side. 

“Hello Eggsy- Lancelot.”

“We were just talking about kicking you in the balls for running off and dying.”

“Charming.”

“It was her idea, not mine.”

Roxy gave Eggsy a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping off with her tea. “See you later, lovely. Got to get home and walk the dog.”

“Alright, love, laters.” He gave a small wave. The two of them watched her wave goodbye to Percival and disappear around the corner. What would Eggsy have done without the lovely Roxy?

“Are you two dating?”

Eggsy blinked in surprise at the sudden question. “What? No, mate, not even. She’s-” He looked up at an ever stoic Harry, eyes sparked with interest. “-she’s my best friend, but definitely not attracted to her. Nah, no way.”

“Interesting. I had thought you were.” For a man so skilled in murder and torture, his features were so soft, warm. At that moment, Eggsy could not read the strangely distant expression he wore. 

“I thought you and Merlin was dating for a while. At first.”

“Oh, bloody hell, absolutely not. I’ve known that man since university- he hasn’t a romantic bone in his body.”

“Since university?” Eggsy’s interest was piqued. He struggled to imagine any of the Kingsman before they’d become agents. Apart from Gawain, who was your typical daft posh boy. Gawain, he could imagine being a student easily.

“Yes,” Harry nodded a little, appearing distant again. They were wondering towards the bullet train. “We were in Corpus Christi college together. Drove each other up the wall when we had to share a room.”

Eggsy could picture it now; poor Merlin trying to study whilst Harry teased him mercilessly, cradling a cup of tea. Suits and all. 

“What did Merlin want from you, by the way?”

“Ah, yes. I’m not allowed to take any missions without a partner. I believe you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“We’re partners? That’s fucking brilliant, Harry!” he grinned, slapping his new partner on the arm. “We make a wicked team.”

“My feelings exactly.”

Partners. They were partners now. Excitement rose up through Eggy’s chest. The man who’d saved him from the hell that was Dean, of prison, no future- they were going to be working together properly. As equals. 

“Eggsy,” Harry began. “I’ve heard there’s a new exhibition at the British Museum since I’ve been away.” Still no explanation as to where he’d been. “Would you like to accompany me, tomorrow morning?”

Eggsy’s step almost faltered. Harry had just returned to normal life- as normal as being a Kingsman could get- and the first thing he wanted to do was go to a museum. With him. 

“I mean- sure.” He fumbles awkwardly. “Sure,” he added uselessly.

“Excellent. I shall see you tomorrow, then, Eggsy.”

 

It was so surreal, just walking alongside Harry as if he hadn’t been supposed dead for the past two months. Holborn was loud and busy, filled with people going on lunch breaks, but as they made their way to the British Museum, their pace falling into the same rhythm as it did when they were on business, Eggsy felt Harry’s presence acutely. He had never been so aware of him before; it was as if before he’d been taking advantage of Harry being alive at all, being physically there. His physical presence wasn’t all though; when Harry Hart entered a room, you didn’t have to look up to know it was him. There just such a strong sense of control and authority that it washed over those around him. It was a surprise that Eggsy liked him so much, really, considering his issues with authority figures. 

This was slightly different, though. Eggsy was used to hanging out with Harry when at work, or training. Now they were making their way to a museum together, just for fun. It was only fair that the first thing Harry wanted to do when he returned to normal life was to do something nice, relaxing- pretty standard, Eggsy would guess, after being shot in the head, if a standard existed. He’d chosen to go to an exhibition, with Eggsy, though. Out of all the things, that anyone would emerge from hospitalisation and choose to look at paintings with Eggsy was baffling to him. 

“You’re thinking very hard.” Harry said it as a statement, not a question. They hopped up the steps of the British Museum, thankfully not too busy since it was so early. “I’d be worried about this break in habit, if it weren’t for the fact that you received some shocking news yesterday.”

Eggsy snorted, ignoring the insult. “Shocking news? Mate, you literally died-”

“Not literally, Eggsy. That isn’t what literally means-”

“And then you just turn up at my fucking door like the tosser that you are.”

“Would you have preferred that I didn’t tell you I was alive?” He had a sweet little smile, as if he wasn’t internally laughing at Eggsy.

“Fuck off, you’re so fucking facetious. Let’s go look at some paintings.”

“As you wish,” Harry conceded, offering Eggsy to go ahead to the ticket desk- thankfully sans queue. It was quick and easy to find their way to the exhibition. 

“Did Merlin tell you when you can go back into the field?”

Harry’s hands fell casually into his pockets, something Eggsy didn’t see very often. He supposed it was because they were hanging out outside of work.

Which was still a bit weird.

“Next week, with any luck,” Harry mused, gently wondering from painting to painting. It was a Harry Eggsy had never seen. It was… strange. “I’m due to have a check up tomorrow. Lots of fitness tests and such, to make sure I haven’t lost my touch.”

“Right,” he replied. He realised he’d been staring at the same painting for a while. It was just really captivating. It looked like a sort of fantasy world; the pale blue sky and floating cliffs, with two people walking across a suspension bridge through the clouds. He hadn’t been sure before if he’d like museums- what with it being filled with university type people- but this was nice. Relaxing. Harry appeared by his side.

“I like this one,” Eggsy said simply.

Harry cocked his head. He looked from Eggsy to the painting, and back again. 

“Why?” he asked quietly. It wasn’t an I’m-your-mentor type question- just genuine, gentle interest. 

Eggsy pursed his lips. “I dunno… the colours, I guess. And how it all looks like it’s gonna float away.” He shrugged. “I don’t know shit about art.”

“You don’t have to, to appreciate something.”

This time, Eggsy cocked his head. “S’pose if going to museums and liking art was only for rich, educated people… there wouldn’t be much point in it. Would there?”

“Hm,” Harry laughed in appreciation. “I can’t disagree with that.”

The whole visit was relaxing. Eggsy wanted to know where ‘that famous wave’ one was, and he wandered off to find it himself. They occasionally bumped into each other on their way around, making comments about things and discussing why they did or didn’t like particular pictures. There was one with Mount Fuji in it, bright red and a bit scary, which Harry liked. That didn’t come as a surprise to Eggsy, who knew that Harry was a bit fucking frightening himself. Strange, that a man who could slaughter a church full of people could also peacefully peruse a Hokusai exhibition with a friend.

Were they friends? Eggsy supposed they were, at this point, if they were doing stuff like this together. It was nice. 

Really nice.

After about fifteen minutes of pottering about individually, he found Harry sitting down and looking at The Great Wave. He plonked himself beside him. 

“My mate had this on his wall in his room.” He said quietly. “Got it from Smith’s.”

“W H Smiths?”

“Yeh.”

“It looks better in the original, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, yeh. It’s beautiful.”

They fell into comfortable silence. Just, watching, thinking. Their arms were touching, which added a bizarre sense of intimacy to a relationship that Eggsy felt had changed an awful lot since Harry had died and come back to life. 

He liked this painting. He liked thinking about art. 

“Maybe, if I’d ever had a chance to go to uni, I’d’ve done art, or something. Or art history. Whatever it’s called. Talking about paintings, not actually painting.” He paused. “I’m shit at painting.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Perhaps. You could have done anything you put your mind to.” He fell silent, preparing to say something else. “You still could, you know, Eggsy.”

He frowned, his eyes following the crest of the wave as he thought. That had never occurred to him. “Nah,” he decided after a minute. “I like where I am. Maybe when I’m old and can’t kick people’s arse anymore.”

Harry chuckled again. “Getting old doesn’t have to stop you.”

He didn’t look back at Eggsy as he studied his spy-like, deadpan expression. “Mate- you ain’t old, though.”

His characteristic eyebrow raise. “Eggsy, I’m 53.”

“Nah, that ain’t old. I’d be taking the piss out of you more if you were.”

Harry laughed properly this time. “Yes, that is true.” He paused. “I suppose dying and coming back to life reminds one of their mortality, is all.”

“’Ey- I thought you wasn’t dead? Remember how you didn’t literally die?”

Another silence settled between them as Harry shook his head in amusement. 

“Eggsy? Is that you, Eggsy Unwin?”

He craned his neck around him to find someone he recognised behind him. Oh God, he thought.

“Oh- Tiff. S’up, love, how are you?” He stood up and gave the girl a quick hug. Tiff was small and sweet looking, but looks could be deceiving. She was always the clever one at school, as well as being fucking fiery. Used to use class as an escape, like Eggsy did- she took it one stage further, though, and got a proper job as a receptionist at a Vet. She also happened to be his ex-girlfriend. 

“It’s been forever, mate,” Tiff grinned, pulling away from the hug. “And look at you, all suited up! You a wanker-banker of something now?”

“Nah, I work in tech, mate.”

“Even fucking worse,” Tiff laughed. “Fucking hell, fancy seeing you here.” She looked at Harry behind him, who had stood up out of politeness.

“Oh- this is Harry, my, er-”

It took far too long for Eggsy to figure out what to say next.

A long time ago, he would have said Harry was like a father figure to him. But that wasn’t it at all- and, actually, thinking that was super fucking weird. He wasn’t really just his mentor or colleague anymore. And were they even friends? Who fucking knew. This all went through his head in the space of half a second before this came out of his mouth:

“-boyfriend.”

Oh sweet fucking lord, he thought to himself. 

Harry didn’t even react. Hopefully Tiff would take the hesitation as awkwardness as his ‘boyfriend’ met his ex. As it was, she didn’t even blink as she shook Harry’s hand genially. “Hiya.”

“Hello.”

“Harry, this is Tiff. She’s my, um, ex.”

“Long time ago, that was,” Tiff shook her head. “Thank fuck we’re out of there now, eh?” she leant in to say. 

Eggsy couldn’t help but agree.

“Look, don’t wanna get in the way of your date- I’ll let you get on. See you round, Eggsy!” she waved as she turned away to leave the exhibition. 

“Boyfriend?” Asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.

He couldn’t even look at Harry right now. Seeing Tiff again- who he hadn’t heard from in forever- was weird enough. Having to come up with a lie on the spot was another thing. The cherry on top was how badly he’d fumbled his way through it. Bloody good spy he was. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Eggsy laughed, covering his hot red face with his hands in shame.

“Alright, darling.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not until you’ve bought me dinner.”

Eggsy threw his head back and laughed loudly, people in the exhibition turned and looked. “You’re such a fucking tosser.”

“You’re really digging yourself a hole, here, Eggsy.”

“Jesus, just- you are so fucking insufferable. You know that?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well… good,” was all Eggsy could muster as a bubbling sensation of anxiety rose into his chest. 

It wasn’t till later that night, as he replayed the afternoon over and over again in his head, fighting the overwhelming urge to masturbate, that he perhaps reconsidered his feelings towards Harry. In the end, he can’t refuse the urge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eggsy is confused

Fucking Jesus Christ. When had he started fantasising about Harry Fucking Hart? Bloody shameful. And since when did he have a thing for men in the first place?

The answer to the last question was, unfortunately, fairly simple. Some people Eggsy knew from the estates had come out, but only to particularly accepting people. With the kind of household Eggsy had been brought up in, though, he never saw it as an option to even consider the fact he might like guys. He’d fairly wilfully ignored it until there came a better time to confront the matter, it seemed. 

Looking back, Eggsy realised he definitely had a thing for a few lads at school. It never occurred to him that the reason he would stare at their arses when they walked away was because, huh, maybe he liked guys too.

But Harry… he couldn’t possibly have a thing for Harry. He was a proper adult. He knew his Dad, for fuck’s sake. He was his mentor. But in retrospect, before he died and came back to life, that is- Eggsy had always been weirdly reverent towards him, listened to him when he listened to no one else. Even checked him out once or twice-

Oh bloody fucking hell, would it have been obvious? What if all this time, Eggsy fancied Harry and had been giving heart eyes without even realising? 

No- this wasn’t happening. This must just be because he’d missed him so much. And it was manifesting weirdly, or something. 

This particular pep talk had been going round in circles in Eggsy’s head all night. He’d barely slept a wink. Now, he was straightening his tie in the mirror, bleary eyed, readjusting his glasses. His suit was navy blue today, with a mustard yellow tie. Harry had fitted him for this one. In another show of reverence, Eggsy smoothed the suit down, thinking back on the first time he’d entered the shop on Saville Road. How things had changed.

Like fucking falling for his mentor. 

Harry was way, way too good for him. And it didn’t make sense, anyway. There were plenty of fit birds- and blokes- around. But Harry? Well, Harry, was… Harry. Obnoxious and stick-up-his-arse and posh. Despite that, though, Eggsy had come to grow… really attached to him. Honestly, when hadn’t he followed him around like a puppy?

None of this would have been an issue if he hadn’t come to his fucking doorstep the other day. But, no. Eggsy had to face these unexpected, fucking ridiculous feelings head on. It made no sense. How could he have feelings for Harry? Pompous, twice-his-age Harry?

The other part of Eggsy’s brain seemed to have an answer unexpectedly rehearsed here. For starters, he was fit. In a, aged like a fine wine, sort of way. He pulled off a suit very well. And he could kick arse like no one else in Kingsman. He was also dedicated to the few people he really cared about. He had a ferocious side to him, but also a quiet, gentle one too. The one who went to galleries and enjoyed watching My Fair Lady. 

He was definitely falling tits over arse for Harry Hart. 

“Who, by the way, managed to release you from fucking prison,” he said aloud to himself. “If anything, in his eyes, your like a son.” He groaned, leaning his forehead on the mirror. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Talking to yourself, Eggsy?”

He jumped out of his skin at that. He forgot to turn his glasses off last night, apparently. “Fucking hell, Merlin. Don’t fucking do that, yeh? Wait- how much did you just hear?”

“Enough to realise you’re in love with Harry. But don’t worry about that now- I need you to come in as soon as you can-”

“Oh Jesus- it’s not what it sounds like-”

“Look, Eggsy,” Merlin sighed in exasperation, “We don’t have time for this right now. And honestly, I just, don’t have the energy to be dealing with other human beings’ emotions right now. So, if you wouldn’t mind, just come into HQ.” 

And with that, Merlin disappeared. He stared back at himself in the mirror.

“Don’t fuck up, he says. It’s not what it sounds like, he says. Stupid cunt.”

 

It was a quiet day at the office. Percival and a few of the other agents were having a couple of days off, as was necessary every now and then for the agents for mental health reasons. Gawain was in though, and he’d decided to pop round Eggsy’s office that morning, after his meeting with Merlin. It turned out, the super urgent thing Merlin needed Eggsy to do was some paper work. He was beginning to loose the will to live, when Gawain burst through the door.

“Dear lord Eggsy, I’m so ruddy bored. Do you have any whiskey by any chance?”

“Gawain, mate- it’s 10 in the morning.”

The man let his head hang back as he moaned like a moody teenager. He plopped into the chair opposite Eggsy’s desk, green tweed suit crisp, white shirt with the top buttons undone. His hair was slightly wavy, falling out of place in a floppy, posh boy sort of way. Merlin had once told him- over a drink after Harry’s death- that his parents had tried to marry him off with a nice girl from a well to do family, only to turn her down shortly before being scouted for Kingsman. The man’s life didn’t seem real. 

“Paper work for you, eh?”

“Yep, unfortunately. Losing my fucking mind.”

“Merlin put you up to it?”

“Yeh- why?” he wrapped his hands around his mug.

“Oh, he tends to do that to the newbies. He knows none of us will listen to him, not likely to get replaced soon. Unless we die, obviously.” He propped his feet on Eggsy’s desk, Oxfords crumpling Eggsy’s completed paperwork.

The boy chuckled. “Won’t bother then.”

“Someone needs to do it,” Gawain raised an eyebrow. “And it certainly won’t be me or Harry- or Hazza, as I’m trying to call him. I don’t think it’ll catch on though.”

“Please keep calling him that,” Eggsy laughed, paperwork forgotten. “And next time make sure I’m there, so I can see his face.”

They spent the next minute trying to imitate an aghast Harry, making each other crack up. 

“How are you doing, on that front?”

Gawain was one of the nicest men on the planet- even if he was ditsy. He was also an amazing, very suave agent when he decided to turn that on. 

“On the whole, oh shit, he’s not dead thing? Yeh, OK. Bit shaken, but OK.”

“Aren’t we all, Eggsy boy. Bastard- thinking he can wander in without an explanation. Typical Harry Bloody Hart.” His head lolled back. “Always so bloody mysterious.”

“Am I now? Any reason in particular this time?”

Harry had appeared in the doorway. Eggsy sat up straighter, as if that made him less guilty of fantasising about his mentor last night. 

“Just dying, disappearing off the radar, then reappearing as if nothing happened,” Gawain drawled. 

“Fair enough,” Harry agreed. His eyes swept over to Eggsy. This was the first time Harry had looked him in the eyes since he’d realised he was falling for him. And suddenly, his gaze felt very different.

Memories of Harry teaching him how to eat like a gentleman, make the perfect martini, speak to a Chinese ambassador came rushing to him. Every one of those lessons now felt so much more intimate. It made Eggsy glad he’d only just realised his feelings now.

“Paperwork?” Harry prompted.

“Yep. I’m ignoring it.”

“Good man,” Harry agreed. 

“You can direct Merlin’s wrath towards me, Eggsy,” Gawain said, before winking and leaving the office. 

“Alright, mate. Might take up that offer.”

Gawain saluted to those present before leaving.

“Gayest man on the planet,” Harry mused, Eggsy snorting loudly.

“Not just he’s really posh?”

“Good God, no. Poor man almost got hitched to Arabella Humphries-Cuff. Eloped with his now-ex-husband instead,” Harry explained, leaning against the door frame in a way that Eggsy found emotionally distressing. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have found that even remotely erotic, and yet now he was a fucking mess. He hoped Harry hadn’t noticed his eyes darting up and down and taking in the scene. 

“So, you’re… still alive then.”

“It appears so.”

“I’m having trouble getting used to it, to be honest, mate.”

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence between them, before they try to say something at the same time.

“Do you-”

“Is there-”

“Sorry, you go first-” Eggsy fumbled.

“No, no, after you.”

“I was just- well, I reckon we have a lot to catch up on, after, you know, you dying and everything,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe you could come round for dinner tonight.”

There was a pause. Eggsy’s heart was thumping in his throat. He’d honestly on meant to ask if he wanted to hang out, but it sounded a lot more like a date. Fucking hell, Eggsy. Now Harry was staring at his oxfords awkwardly.

“I can’t, Eggsy. Perhaps some other time. Excuse me, I have things to do.”

Without another word, the man disappeared down the corridor. Eggsy leant back in his chair, hands clutching the top of his head in distress. “Oh, fucking Nora.”

“Who’s fucking Nora?” Roxy’s head popped round the doorway.

“Jesus, it’s like Piccadilly-Fucking-Circus in here today,” Eggsy groaned.

“You finished with the paper work?” Roxy plonked herself in the chair Gawain had just been occupying. 

“No,” Eggsy said sulkily. “Can’t be arsed.”

“I’m struggling too,” Roxy admitted. “And my attention span is about ten times better than yours,” she added with a sly smile.

“Cheers.”

She frowned, organising her own paperwork on his desk and filling it out with him. “Are you alright, Eggsy? Something on your mind?”

He let out a long breath in thought. “Nothing. Harry’s just in a weird mood and I really don’t want to be doing paperwork when I could be doing something cool and agent-y.”

Roxy ignored the last part. “What kind of weird mood?” she asked without looking up from her paperwork.

“Just, like… one minute we’re having a good chat, the next, he’s all ‘I have things to do’,” Eggsy gave his best posh impression, “and ran off.”

Roxy shrugged. “Sounds like typical Harry Hart to me.”

Not the Harry Hart I know, Eggsy wants to say. 

“He’s probably just struggling to settle back into things. Did you say something?”

“No, I just asked him if he wanted to come round for dinner.”

Roxy looked up from her work, eyes pregnant with mischief.

“No- don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” She asked innocently.

“Just- like that,” Eggsy began, and failed, picking up his pen and reluctantly joining Roxy with work. “It’s just… a bit weird between us right now.” Biggest understatement ever. “I hope it gets back to normal, that’s all.”

Roxy paused, putting her pen down. “You two did always seem to get on very well, before… well.”

“We did,” Eggsy admitted. “We got on each other’s nerves. I mean, the last conversation we had before he… you know, was how pissed off he was at me for failing that stupid fucking test. Like I was gonna shoot JB? I dunno,” he shook his head in exasperation. “I just hope it goes back to the stupid fun stuff, when we were mates. Like him teaching me how to not be a massive chav, like Pretty Woman, or whatever it was he compared it to.” 

Roxy spluttered. “He compared training you to Pretty Woman?”

Eggsy shrugged. “Yeh, what of it?”

Roxy gave him her best duh face. “Have you seen Pretty Woman?”

“…No, why, should I have?”

Roxy laughed and nodded her head like she understood something, dragging the chair back as she got up. “Watch the film, Eggsy.”

“It’s just a film-” he began in confusion.

“Just- watch the bloody film, Eggsy.” 

She was laughing to herself when she left him to his pile of paperwork.

 

Eggsy liked to have his lunch in Hedgemead Park. It was right next to the shop on Saville Row. Funnily enough, it was also where Harry took him after his first Lancelot trial. Right now, he was having his Boots meal deal, watching a small child chase some pigeons. There were tourists taking Instagram pictures of the park. Thankfully, the weather was better than it had been- not a cloud or drop of rain in sight, in fact. 

He really, really wished he didn’t have feelings for Harry Hart. Falling for a man like that could only cause trouble. Harry was a secret agent, an assassin- not exactly the recipe for a mentally stable partner. 

He sighed loud enough to make the person next to him ask if he was alright.

His phone was ringing. It was Merlin.

“I’ve got my glasses on, you know.”

“I’m not going to contact you through those when you’re in public, moron.”

“True- that would look a bit weird. And please, please forget what you heard this morning.”

Merlin sighed on the other end of the phone. “I can’t, as much as I’d like to. You’re sitting there, sighing loud enough to distract me from the other feeds I’m tracking- important feeds from agents doing actual work.”

“Sorry,” Eggsy mumbled, taking a bite of his duck wrap. “I’ll just breath more fucking quietly, shall I?” 

“Much appreciated.” There was a pause. “Eggsy, if you want to talk about it-”

“I really, really fucking don’t Merlin. You’re my mate and everything, but no.”

“I wasn’t going to recommend you tell me, I was going to say you should talk to Lancelot. Or maybe one of the counsellors.”

“And what are they going to fucking say? It’s fine, I’ll just- I’ll just get over it. It’s probably just cause he’s come back after so long, and I’m confused. That’s all.”

Merlin sighed wearily. 

“Besides, he’s avoiding me now, which makes it easier.”

Another pause. “Is he really?”

“Yep. Acting all weird and snappy. I dunno. I think maybe all this time I’ve just… imagined that he likes me at all. Probably a massive disappointment to him after what happened before Kentucky.” 

“Och, Jesus Christ- you’re both fucking morons.” Merlin tended to get more Scottish when he was angry. “Listen, let me just say this- are you aware that you’re the only person who’s ever been to his house, out of Kingsman?”

Eggsy opened his mouth to respond to the quip he was expecting, and closed it again. “Uh- no. No I didn’t know that.”

“Of course you didn’t. Bloody obtuse, for an agent-”

“Oi!”

“Look, Eggsy, I want to talk about this as much as you do- all I’m going to say is, talk to Lancelot. Or better yet, Harry himself.”

The idea made his stomach leap into his mouth. He almost choked on his wrap. “You must be fucking joking.”

A sigh. “Finish your lunch and then finish that paperwork. Alright?”

“Aight. Chat to you later, Merlin.”

He pocketed his phone and tilted his head back, staring at the leaves above him. Dappled sunshine was streaming through the trees. With eyes closed, he lay back on the park bench, and for just one moment, allowed himself to imagine that life was more straight forward than it really was.

 

Eggsy was a good cook. 

Growing up, Michelle couldn’t always look after him the way she wanted. And when your mum is struggling with alcoholism and your step-dad’s beating you both in between going to the pub, you have to grow up quite quickly.

The fridge had almost always been empty, but when it wasn’t, Eggsy could sometimes manage to whip up an edible concoction with the random ingredients. Give a resourceful man some money, and hell, he can come up with some good shit. Right now he was making spaghetti putanesca, one of his newly discovered favourites. Olives, anchovies, tomatoes, cheese, whatever herbs he happened to be growing on his window sill, maybe some Tabasco- onions and garlic, obviously- and of course, a lot of chilli. Eggsy loved a good bit of spice. Daisy was enjoying some of the sauce for her dinner tonight- without the chilli, though. Eggsy wasn’t prepared to clean up whatever would erupt from her as a result. 

The problem with cooking tomato sauce and spaghetti was that it always splattered all over him, before he’d even started eating. Eggsy had never owned an apron- it had never occurred to him to buy one. Messy clothes it was, then- his white shirt was now speckled with tiny tomato dots. 

“Look what I’ve done, Dais,” Eggsy stretched his shirt out to show the hungry little girl in her high chair. “I’ve gone and ruined my nice new shirt. Harry would be mortified.”

Daisy clapped her hands.

“Yeh, you might well think it’s funny, but I won’t be laughing when it comes out stained from the wash.” A damp cloth to the shirt was making it worse. “Ah, fucking hell.” 

Having now made his shirt spotted with pink water, Eggsy poured some un-spiced sauce into a little bowl, letting it cool in the fridge. Daisy said “a! a!”

“Patience, madam,” Eggsy chided. “I ain’t burning your mouth, don’t want the authorities coming and taking you away because I fed you hot, spicy pasta, yeh?”

A raspberry emerged from her corner of the kitchen. Eggsy returned a raspberry, making Daisy giggle.

The fridge door hung open, and Eggsy noticed an unopened bag of salad in his fridge. He’d never even bothered buying it until now. Why would he buy food that wouldn’t fill him up? But now, there it sat, making him feel sinful for not even considering having it on the side. Eggsy groaned. “Fucking fine then.”

Two leaves of salad placed alongside a mountain of pasta, and Eggsy was ready to turn on the telly in the kitchen and watch QI with Daisy. Of course, that’s when there was a knock on the door.

Eggsy huffed, reluctantly putting his fork down and answering the door. It was Harry.

“You really need to stop randomly turning up at my door. Not very gentlemanly, is it?”

“Terribly impolite of me, I agree.” Anyone else would have thought the man looked deadly serious, but Eggsy knew that there was a joke behind his words. 

“So you… want to come in and have that dinner after all?”

“If the offer still stands.”

“Er- yeh. Come on in. I think I’ve made enough for two- I usually do, with my appetite.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied graciously, following him into the kitchen, where Daisy was clapping her hands happily.

“Alright, little lady, your dinner’s probably cool enough now.” He dipped his pinkie into the food to test it; yep, nice and luke warm. When he turned round to put in on her high chair, he noticed Harry staring at his soiled shirt.

“Uh- yeh. Pasta incident.”

Harry nodded slowly, hiding how aghast he was. Eggsy snorted. “Have you met Daisy properly? I know you met her last time you came round, but I didn’t think to introduce you.”

“No, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” Harry said, staring back at the baby who was gazing in amazement at the new face. 

“Well. Daisy, Harry- Harry, Daisy. Harry is a secret agent, Daisy. Daisy likes to burp and blow raspberries, Harry.”

On cue, the baby blew one of her raspberries. Harry looked at her with interest, but not without nervousness as well. Meanwhile, Eggsy was trying to divide his pasta onto another plate. 

“What made you change your mind about tonight, then?” Eggsy was splattering more sauce on him, Harry watching in pain, yet offering no help.

“As you say, I believe we have a lot to catch up on. I’ve been somewhat… out of sorts, recently. I’m sorry if I was a little… blunt this morning.”

Eggsy blinked, paused with pasta hanging in the air. “I mean, that’s fair enough, mate. It’s OK. I’d be a mess.”

“Hmm,” Harry responded unhelpfully. Eggsy couldn’t help but remember his conversation with Merlin and Roxy, and cringed. 

“Thought maybe you were avoiding me,” he said with a laugh. 

There was a long pause.

“No. Not at all. Thank you for the pasta, Eggsy. Do you have a napkin?”

Eggsy spun around on the spot before remembering where he kept his kitchen roll, putting in on the table. “That’s all you’re going to get I’m afraid. Don’t do serviettes.”

“Oh- Eggsy, please don’t call them serviettes.”

He plonked down into his seat and began to spoon sauce to a very eager Daisy. “What? It’s French, innit? That’s posh, right?”

Harry let out a measured breath before twirling spaghetti onto his spoon. The pasta was spot on; something Harry made sure to mention. It was nice getting compliments for your cooking- the only person he’d cooked properly for was Roxy. Hearing it from Harry was extra special though. It made him day dream- as they ate their pasta in happy silence- about cooking for Harry when they got home from work, in their own home. Fuck, was this already getting out of hand. 

In between feeding Daisy, he fed himself. It took a while, but Harry, being a gentleman and didn’t wolf down his food like Eggsy usually would, didn’t finish before him. The man took their plates and did the washing, and Eggsy was happy to let him. The situation was far too domestic for him to handle without day dreaming, to be honest. 

“Ain’t got pudding. Sorry. Have got some wine, though,” Eggsy took a bottle of white from the fridge and waggled it temptingly. 

“Perfect,” Harry agreed. 

_Trying to get him drunk, Eggsy?_ He had to wonder.

“We’ll have to wait till I’ve put the baby to bed,” Eggsy said with an apologetic tone. 

“Of course,” Harry said. Eggsy scooped up the increasingly sleep baby and took her and Harry to the living room. 

They ended up talking for hours after putting Daisy to sleep. Not about where Harry had been- apparently, he wasn’t willing to share that yet. But Eggsy was fine telling him what had been happening with him- he’d brought down an under age sex trade in Manchester, carried off someone who’d tried to assassinate Teresa May (not everyone would thank him for that, he knew) as well as catching whiffs of a drug ring based in London. Keeping himself busy had helped him come to terms with his mentor dying. He said as much to Harry after a few drinks. 

They sat comfortably on the sofa together. Harry sat legs crossed, like a gentleman, Eggsy was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, turned towards him like they were at a sleep over. Not that he realised this; he was too busy attentively chatting to Harry Hart, newly-not-dead mentor and crush. When they’d polished off the bottle of white, and Eggsy invited him to start another with him, the man declared it was time for him to go. 

Eggsy was getting the sense that he was running away again, when he swept up his coat and said a tense goodnight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *wink wink*

Once again, Harry was being a grumpy bastard. 

Merlin had sent them on their first mission together. Eggsy had been on the edge of his seat about it; teacher and student, working together at last. After dinner last night, all had seemed well in the Harry Hart department- aside from the crippling, unrequited crush Eggsy was trying to quash, of course. But apparently, he had been right about his swift exit at the end of the night. Harry was in a weird mood, and was being inexplicably snappy again tonight. 

The two men were at a party at a drug dealer’s house in South Kensington. It was a charity do, raising money for underprivileged children in London. Eggsy would have been more invested, if he didn’t also know that one of the men running the show was the head of that drug ring he’d found out about a few weeks ago. So, unfortunately, they weren’t there to have a nice time, try the bellinis and donate some money to what Merlin had found was a sound charity. They were here to follow a lead for one of the donators- Les Fletcher. 

“Sounds like the kind of name you’d hear around my parts,” Eggsy said in the car on the way over to Kensington. “Les Fletcher- proper East London name that. Shame he had to be a total wanker and get so many people in trouble with this shit.”

“Quite,” Harry said. Monosyllables were his favourite form of conversation tonight. 

Eggsy looked through the file one more time. The little information they had on Les was his appearance; tall, gaunt, horrid teeth. Looked like a druggy to be honest, other than the fact that he obviously invested in some decent cosmetics to liven himself up a bit. His hair was receding, blonde- not real blonde, by the looks of it. He had little, dark eyes. It was also said that he had a couple of lackeys, one Geoff and Tyler Smith, two brothers.

“He looks like a little shit, too.”

Their journey was painfully quiet. Maybe Harry just wanted to get it over and done with. The Harry Eggsy knew would have taken some sort of enjoyment out of the mission. They entered the large entrance hall, where drinks and nibbles were being served, and somewhere inside both of their brains, a gentleman switch was turned on. That being said, considering the company. Eggsy could get away with his authentic accent. 

He wished Harry wasn’t so damn attractive in that suit tonight, though. Mind on the mission, Eggsy, mind on the mission. First of all, they had to locate Fletcher’s office and transfer to Merlin any information they could find. Then, they had to schmooze up to Fletcher himself. Datamining was one thing, but there was often nothing more useful in the agent’s arsenal than a one to one chat.

The house was huge. Even for South Kensington, where most places were fucking expensive, this place was massive. Must have cost an absolute bomb. Eggsy took a glass of prosecco happily. 

“Cheers,” he winked at Harry. 

“This is an awfully large home,” Harry replied, and Eggsy knew what he was saying. How were they going to find Fletcher’s office? 

“It’s up the stairs, to the right, then at the very end of the corridor,” Merlin said into their ears. “I’ve finally found a plan of the house, just in time. In about 5 minutes, to give you a chance to mingle naturally, I’m going to set off an alarm at the back of the house to bring the security to that area. That’ll give you the chance to find the office.”

“Brilliant,” Eggsy said to a passing guest.

“Lovely,” Harry remarked, as if complimenting the house. 

Eggsy sipped his prosecco. Now this was the kind of agent work he wanted to do from the start. He let out a happy sigh after a particularly satisfying sip. 

“You not going to get a drink, then?”

“No,” Harry said simply.

“Oh, come on. Live a little. I know this is your first… party in a while,” Eggsy said, the two of them wondering into the crowd. “But you gotta take the opportunity when it’s there, yeh?”

Without a word, Harry disappeared into the midst of guests, and began chatting suavely to someone in their file. 

“Fucking, alright then,” Eggsy muttered into his glass. 

“That’s an East London accent I hear.” It was Fletcher, the man himself. Well fuck me sideways, that was fast. 

“Just go with it,” Merlin encouraged. 

“You got me,” Eggsy grinned, his classic, shit-eating grin that was his down-town boy trademark. “Great party you got goin’ here, mate. Pleasure to meet you.” 

Eggsy gave Fletcher his hand. “You too, bruv. Whereabouts you from then?”

“Alexandra Road, mate.”

“You’re fucking joking,” Fletcher grinned. “Don’t get to meet many of our kind round these parts, eh?”

“I read you was from the Aylesbury estates?”

Fletcher nodded proudly. “Shit hole, it was, but wouldn’t change it. Made me who I am now, you know?”

Eggsy did. Shame the guy had to be such an arsehole. “Yeh, yeh. Enjoying the high life, though, not gonna lie, mate. Fucking lovin’ the house- it’s insane, bruv.”

Fletcher barked a laugh, a proper throaty laugh that you’d hear on the way back from the pub on the streets. The type that scared the shit out of people. “Isn’t it fucking lush? I thank God everyday, I tell yuh.” The man cocked his head, looked Eggsy up and down. He could see the cogs whirring. “What you do then? IT or somethin’?”

“Yeh, close- I’m in tech. Heard about this along the grapevine, wanted to show my support. Us lot gotta stick together, even if we do get out the estates, yeh?” Eggsy smacked the man on the shoulder amiably. Fletcher grinned, those awful, yellow teeth poking through. 

“Absolutely, mate. Pleasure to have you here, have a good time, yeh? I want to hear all about your work. Try the salmon roe- fucking delightful.” Fletcher gave him one more evaluative look, seeming suitably impressed before disappearing.

“Good fucking job, Eggsy,” Merlin said into his ear. Eggsy allowed himself a cheeky smile. “I’m just about to set off the alarm at the back of the house- only the security will be aware of it going, so no commotion there. Give it about thirty seconds after you see them disappear.”

“Nice,” Eggsy commented- largely in response to his successful conversation with Fletcher. 

As planned, the security at the party based at the staircase made their way to the back of the mansion. Harry went up first, unnoticed by everyone else. Eggsy gave it a minute before he followed. 

The office door was left ajar for Eggsy to go in. Harry was already behind the desk, datamining the man’s laptop. Eggsy took a look around the office for anything else useful. 

“Found anything useful?”

“Details of a shipping in two weeks time, and the co-ordinates for a rendez-vous in Russia, apparently.” Harry tapped away at the laptop. 

“Nice” Eggsy said. “Afterwards, maybe we can enjoy the party a bit. Since we’ve got all we need.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry muttered, straightening his glasses and standing up straight. Before he could reach the door, Eggsy stepped in front of him, hand on his chest holding him back.

“OK, what the fuck is your problem?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve been acting fucking weird for the past few days, and not just in a settling in kind of way. You’ve been perfectly friendly with everyone apart from me. Have I done something to offend you?”

Harry moved out of Eggsy’s way. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Neither of us do, yeh?” he stepped back into Harry’s path. “So you’d better just fucking tell me now what’s going on.”

“Stop being so childish. We’re here for a reason. Move out of my way.”

“No,” Eggsy said resolutely. “Maybe I am being childish, but takes one to know one- isn’t that what they say?”

“You do realise that it can be a bit of a mental strain to return to the field after a near death experience?” Harry spat, no longer trying to leave but towering over Eggsy. 

“Boys, we don’t really have time for this,” Merlin cautioned. 

They ignored him. “Don’t fucking give me that. You and I both know you’ve been in positions like that before. It’s your job to keep going onto the next mission. You’ve been weird with me- so what’s your fucking problem?”

“I’ve been perfectly cordial with you. I don’t know what you expect,” Harry replied tensely. It was so insincere it made Eggsy burn with rage. He shook his head in frustration.

“You know- you don’t get to fucking tear someone from their life, introduce them to a fucking secret agency, teach them, mentor them, and then just act like I’m not worth your time.”

Harry let out a measured sigh. He stood in front of a large mahogany bookshelf, straightening his tux. “It was never my intention to give you that impression.”

“What? That I’m not worth your time? Well congrats, you’ve fucking gone and done it. You know, pretending you like me isn’t that effective when you then go around being all snarky to me, too.”

“Pretending…? Eggsy, I-”

“Don’t fucking tell me that you do care about me after all.” Eggsy paced across to the other end of the office. “I know that you were doing this to pay back my dad. S’what you said before you left for America. Should’ve fucking listened. Before I let myself believe you ever really gave a shit about me.”

“I don’t know where you’re getting this from, Eggsy-”

“You were dead, Harry.” Eggsy said through gritted teeth. “I mourned for you. You fucking- you saved me from this shit hole life, where I had nothing going for me. You fucking took me from there, and dropped me into this ridiculous parallel universe, and then you just died.” Harry wore an uncharacteristic expression of surprise- of hurt. “You died. And then you came back, and nothing is the same. You go between, acting like you’re my friend, to fucking acting like I shouldn’t be here. I just- I don’t know what you’re doing with me.”

He hadn’t planned to let it all come out like that. There were things there that he didn’t even realise he’d been thinking. But there it was- the stark truth, laid out for both of them in the middle of a drug ring leader’s office. 

“I really don’t want to interrupt, but maybe you two could talk about this later-”

“Shut up, Merlin,” they said in unison. 

Merlin growled on the other side of the comm. “Fucking fine. It’s your fault if you both get caught. Don’t mind me.”

An electric silence buzzed between them. Eggsy shook his head and leant on the bookshelves opposite Harry, staring at his shoes. 

“I suppose I’ve always felt that you don’t really care, deep down. I just wish you didn’t feel you had to pretend.”

“Eggsy, I don’t know how you’ve come to this conclusion, but I didn’t pick you up from Holborn police station because I didn’t care.”

“No, you just felt guilty.”

Harry sighed. “Perhaps that’s all it was, at first.”

“But now?” Eggsy prompted bitterly. He was met with silence. He couldn’t even look at him. “Just fucking admit it to me now, and I’ll stop inviting you to dinner, getting in your personal space or whatever.”

“I’m not going to admit anything of the sort,” Harry growled. 

“Then why?” Eggsy whispered. “Why act like you give a shit one minute and the next…? Is it because I’m _common_? Am I embarrassing to you?”

“For fuck’s sake, Eggsy, you know that’s not it-”

“Actually, no, I fucking don’t,” Eggsy retorted. “Since that conversation before you left for Kentucky, I’ve wondered if you really thought I was worth it.”

“This is all just you, Eggsy. This isn’t-”

“Of course it is,” he laughed grimly. “From the very start, it’s all just been a show. You never really-” he broke off. 

“Eggsy,” Harry said calmly. “I can quite assuredly tell you, that it’s quite the opposite of what you’re thinking.”

A silence settled, as Eggsy let that comment sink in. 

“Quite the opposite of…” 

Pretty Woman. 

He’d read the synopsis last night. He hadn’t watched it yet, but he was curious after what Roxy said. A rom-com, where a knight in shining armour saves the girl from a life of poverty and prostitution, apparently. Eggsy hadn’t understood what made Roxy laugh about that. 

Till now. 

And it suddenly began to fall into place. Harry had been avoiding him, but for… the opposite reason he thought he was. And he’d chosen to spend time with him, come to him first, after everything that had happened.

Was he jumping to conclusions here? Better to test out the theory, right?

Eggsy looked up at Harry, at last. The man had his hands in his pockets, looking at the patterned carpet, too uncomfortable to look up. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he practically whispered. “Nobody needed to know. I didn’t realise I was doing such a poor job of hiding it.”

Eggsy let out a cough like laugh. “Shit agent, you are.”

Harry blinked slowly, letting his eyes close for a few seconds before re-examining the floor. Before he could stop himself- and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to- Eggsy was slowly making his way to Harry.

“You have feelings for me.”

The man gave a reluctant huff. “If you must put it that way, yes.”

Eggsy looked at Harry’s face with a renewed sense of reverence. He’d never seen his so vulnerable. Ashamed? So open yet closed off at the same time. With his feelings laid out so unexpectedly, he still looked perfect. Hair swept back, posture straight. 

“Look at me.” He didn’t at first. “Look at me,” Eggsy repeated.

When Harry did, his eyes were warm. Worried, sad, but warm. Filled with an affection that Eggsy couldn’t have expected. 

“I’m sorry for being a dick and putting you on the spot.” He continued to walk up to Harry until he was close enough for their noses to touch. He looked up at him, and there was a definite fear in Harry’s eyes now.

“Eggsy…” he began to complain.

His gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. God, he didn’t realise how much he’d wanted this. “But you should know that, you’re not alone. In the feelings department.”

Harry shook his head weakly, eyes still trained on Eggsy’s. “I can’t.”

“Why?” he laid a hand on his chest. Harry’s muscles tightened underneath it. “Give me a reason.”

Harry breathed out slowly, and Eggsy could feel his breath on his cheek. 

“I’m not the right man for you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy breathed a quiet laugh. “That’s not what my gut’s telling me,” he whispered. “Don’t tell me this is because you’re my mentor?”

“And I’m _twice your age_ ,” he closed his eyes as he spoke. 

“I don’t. Give a shit,” Eggsy muttered, gaze fluttering up to Harry’s closed eyes. “Is that the only reason you can give me? Because if this is where this has been going this whole time…”

There was no response. They only breathed in each other, crowded against each other with the bookshelf behind Harry. Eggsy let a leg slip between Harry’s, who’s breath hitched. 

“You have feelings for me. I have feelings for you,” he said simply, his nose grazing Harry’s cheek. “Let that be enough. Just for now.”

His eyes opened again, and they were darker than before. Harry’s head bent down slightly- it was enough to let their lips meet in a gentle graze. It was only then that Harry’s hand cradled the back of Eggsy’s head, pulling into a full on kiss. Eggsy made a quiet hiccup of surprise as Harry’s other hand found the small of his back, pulling him closer into the kiss. It was lingering, as if every second were being committed to memory. Eggsy’s own hands found their way to Harry’s shirt collar, their glasses clacking together.

“You two really couldn’t have chosen a worse time for this,” Merlin sighed. “Fucking hell- I can’t watch this.”

Eggsy laughed against Harry’s lips. “Sorry.”

Harry leaned back, looking down at a dishevelled Eggsy. “We have what we need. Perhaps we should take this elsewhere.” 

“Please, do,” Merlin muttered. “And please don’t feel the need to leave the glasses on.”

“Your place or mine?” Eggsy smirked. 

“Mine is closer.”

 

The journey was excruciating. Kensington to Fitzrovia was easy- and yet Eggsy found himself clenching his fists in anticipation. Harry’s leg was fidgeting, knee bouncing up and down. It was raining now, and Eggsy watched the water streak his window, light sparkling through the rain drops. It was either that, or stare at Harry, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that right now. 

My God, how long had he subconsciously been waiting for this? How long had he wanted to take Harry home and strip away that cool, calm, gentlemanly exterior? Judging by the warm, nervous feeling that was pooling in his abdomen, and his increasingly difficult to hide boner, he would say probably quite a fucking long time. 

Harry’s driver stopped at the end of the mews, the rain creating puddles in the cobbled road. He was suddenly really fucking grateful that Daisy’s nanny was staying the night to watch over her- Eggsy wasn’t sure how long the gala would take or where it would take him. He definitely wasn’t expecting it to take him to Harry’s front door- which Harry calmly let him through. Eggsy shut the door behind him, leaning against it. The dark look in Harry’s eyes- it pure hunger, a look that said he wanted to take and goddamn did Eggsy want to be taken. He took in the sight- of Harry pausing, ready to pounce, the firm line of his jaw set in anticipation, looking at him lean against his door with so much want- before he closed the gap, taking Eggsy’s face in his hands and kissing him roughly. 

It was all so new to him- his realised feelings for Harry, discovering that they were reciprocated- it made him all the more alert to everything that was going on. He felt like a live wire, and that conversation in Fletcher’s office had fucking stripped him of all his insulation. All his emotions bubbled at the surface and it was all just so _shocking_ and _new_ , he could feel everything at once, like Harry kiss him in a way that was so absolutely not gentlemanly that it brought out a surprised gasp from Eggsy’s mouth. Harry’s possessive hands moved from his face, one cradling the back of his head and the other the small of his back. He didn’t need to pull Eggsy forward- he was already instinctively arching his back to close the space between them that didn’t exist, and my God this kissing wasn’t the kind that came from a man who was uncertain- it was so full of desperation and need, how long had Harry been building this up? 

And it occurred to Eggsy as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s neck, the other clinging onto his jacket at his waist, that he was entirely Harry’s. From day one he’d followed him to Kingsman, tried everything he could to make him proud and Harry had _chosen_ him for all of this, and Jesus fuck, if he wouldn’t walk into hell for the man-

-And now Harry was dragging them upstairs, their lips barely separating. Eggsy found himself out of breath, and he wondered if he’d been breathing at all when they were kissing, and _fucking hell_ these trousers were too tight-

-They crashed into Harry’s bedroom, and whilst Eggsy had wondered only the night before what it looked like, he didn’t give two shits in that moment as he pulled Harry onto the bed on top of him, barely allowing him to stop kissing for even a second. Harry’s hands found Eggsy’s wrists and he pinned him down, eliciting a ridiculously pornographic moan that he swore he’d never made before- he wasn’t even sure it was him, at first. He was usually so quiet during sex and yet here he was, moaning into Harry Hart’s mouth and arching into him as he pinned him down. Whatever semblance of restraint there was before between either of them was gone now- Harry made a hungry sound in response and Eggsy had to pull away to catch his breath.

“Fucking hell Harry,” he gasped. He wrestled playfully against Harry’s grip. 

For his first time with a man this was going swimmingly well, but he found himself also really fucking nervous. Harry’s face hovered a couple of inches above him, a look of appreciation in his eyes that set Eggsy’s heart beating impossibly faster and huff out a breath of surprise. 

“You’re beautiful,” Harry said simply. 

Eggsy blinked. He’d had sex plenty of times before. Sure, not with a guy. But he wasn’t inexperienced. And yet he had never heard anyone speak to him with so much affection in bed. In fact, he wasn’t sure anyone had articulated anything quite so loving and caring to him at all, ever. It left him speechless and confused, and a little bit frightened. It sent a flood of warmth- sexual desire, and something a little like love- from head to toe of his body. 

“Kiss me,” Eggsy demanded, in a whisper. 

Harry complied. This kiss was less rough- it was more precise, it somehow had a more definite aim other than to get Eggsy into bed, and Eggsy found himself kissing back with an equal amount of feeling, though he couldn’t name that feeling exactly. And suddenly this wasn’t just sex- this was entirely foreign to him, something completely new, not just the fact that it was with Harry, a man, and Eggsy’s nerves tumbled out of control- 

He broke off the kiss and stared at Harry wordlessly, having no idea what to say. He wanted more than anything for this to continue, and his spontaneous personality was screaming at him to keep going, but something huge was holding him back that he couldn’t figure out, some fear of how much he really cared for Harry, and oh God, this was love. This wasn’t just a crush. This was terrifyingly real and the idea was paralysing. 

“Eggsy,” Harry said softly. His usually perfect was falling into his in a way that was even more perfect to Eggsy. “I realise I’ve been rather bold,” he said, like they were in a fucking period drama.

He shook his head fervently. “No, that’s not it, it’s not that I don’t want to, yeh, it’s just…” Harry waited patiently, releasing Eggsy’s wrists and rolling onto his side, leaning his head on his hand. It was a surreal and beautiful sight. “I dunno how to explain, Harry.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry said simply, and Eggsy closed his eyes in relief that he hadn’t pissed him off or confused him enough to send him running. The man was so beautifully draped beside him, so comfortable to just be with Eggsy in his own bedroom. No expectations. “It is all a bit sudden.” 

Eggsy laughed, and the bed bounced as he did. “Fucking yeh it is.” 

They lay in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, looking at each other and taking in the moment. 

“I’ve never been with a guy before,” Eggsy admitted. He felt he could; the atmosphere was so open and relaxed and it was so foreign to him. 

“Ah,” Harry replied in understanding, although he seemed to sense there was more to it. “There’s no rush at all. Although, I suppose we haven’t really discussed what this is, have we?”

“Nope,” Eggsy replied. “Pretty much went straight into it.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed. He was playing with Eggy’s fingers. It felt nice. “I’m afraid I’ve bee thinking about this for some time. I got a little ahead of myself,” he added with that deceptively sweet smile. 

Eggsy turned his head to look up at Harry, who was now stroking and looking at Eggsy’s hair. “Yeh? How long?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Long enough.”

He couldn’t hold back the grin that crept up on him. “So fucking weird.” 

A characteristic eyebrow raise and smile, before: “Weird? Do explain.”

“Nah, it’s just- I never thought this would happen. When I figured it out, the idea that this would actually happen was just, nah. Not gonna happen.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I never thought you’d feel the same.”

“Why?” Harry asked, and Eggsy felt it was more of a challenge than anything. Go on, try and explain it, Harry was saying. Try and tell me you’re not worth it. His head rolled away from him and he stared at Harry’s chest of drawers. 

“Jus’ didn’t,” he said gruffly. “I dunno,” he added uselessly.

They lay in silence for a minute or so, questions and answers rearranging themselves in their minds. Eggsy noticed how soft Harry’s bed sheets were. Pure white and really soft. He felt them between his fingers.

“Egyptian cotton,” Harry commented. 

“’S really nice,” Eggsy said quietly. 

“I would very much like you to be my boyfriend, Eggsy,” Harry said out of nowhere. His head rolled over to look at him. There was so much affection there. Jesus, how hadn’t he seen it before? “And I’d like to tell you you’re beautiful more often.”

Eggsy’s breathing went uneven and he stared stupidly at Harry. This was terrifying- for someone who’d never received so much attention or care in his life, these moments were overwhelming. But he also loved it- needed it. He could push past that fear. 

“Yeh, aight,” he agreed. Harry huffed a quiet laugh. 

“There we are, then,” he concluded. He turned his head to check the time on his bedside table. “It’s getting late. Would you like to stay over?”

“Please,” Eggsy managed, although it felt like his voice had disappeared somewhere in the midst of all his feelings. He swallowed and tried again, “Yeh, please.”

“Alright,” Harry announced, before standing up and closing the curtains. “If you’d like a shower or a bath, my ensuite is here- towels in the cupboard here- would you like a cup of tea? I tend to make one for myself around this time.”

God this was really fucking surreal. “Uh, no, thanks. I might have a shower, though.”

Harry gestured to his bathroom and wandered out of the room to make tea, Eggsy presumed. He hesitantly went into the bathroom- it was really fucking nice, too. Roll top bath with old fashioned taps, and all. The shower was fancy too, the kind where the head came out of the ceiling. It didn’t just look nice either- it was a brilliant shower. It calmed him down a bit, the steam rolling around him and blanketing him in heat. He’d been subconsciously looking for someone to look at him, talk to him the way Harry had just now. The shock and nerves at having it realised was fucking overwhelming, especially since he didn’t realise he’d even wanted that in his life. And especially because he’d only realised he liked him really recently. Added to the fact that Harry had been ‘dead’ for two months. It was all a bit of a fucking mess in Eggsy’s head.

But oh, was it fucking worth it. He wasn’t one to hold back- if he saw an opportunity he fucking grabbed it. And this was one of the biggest in his life- so he wasn’t going to run and hide because it was too overwhelming. No; when Eggsy was overwhelmed, he drank it all up and let it rush through him. 

When he left the shower, he felt so much more in control. So much more like he knew that this was fine- and exactly what he wanted. He put his boxers back on, but wasn’t sure what to do next- until he found a spare t-shirt on the bed that Harry must have left for him. It was bloody Ralph Lauren. Fucking typical- it made him smile. When he put it on, he bunched the collar up to his face; it smelled like Harry.

Harry knocked lightly at the ajar door- his own fucking bedroom. Eggsy never knocked anywhere and yet here was Harry knocking to come into his own bedroom. “Yeh, I’m decent.”

Harry’s face twisted into a smile as if he were about to say something a bit cheeky in response, but chose not to in light of how freaked out Eggsy had been ten minutes ago. He was in boxers and a t-shirt himself, and came in with a cup of tea. It smelled weird, though.

“What’s that,” Eggsy nodded to the mug.

“Roibos,” Harry said, setting it down on the bedside table. He’d never heard of it, and Harry gave no explanation. 

Uncertainty cast away, Eggsy practically hopped into bed, smiling cheekily when he saw Harry’s surprise.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to join me,” he admitted.

In response, Eggsy shuffled down and crossed his arms over the sheets resolutely. “Fuck, these sheets are soft. Egyptian cotton, was that what you said?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, hiding his hesitation well as he slipped into bed next to bed next to him. 

“Fuck, I didn’t realise how tired I was,” Eggsy said closing his eyes. 

“Mmm, I’m bloody shattered,” Harry sighed. It was so ridiculously domestic, all of this, and Eggsy couldn’t deny his nerves but it was so fucking lovely as well that he happily ignored them. He shuffled up to Harry and tucked his head under the man’s arm as Harry balanced his tea. It sloshed precariously as Eggsy snuggled down.

He could practically hear Harry rolling his eyes. He could also hear his heart beat. 

“You sleep in Ralph Lauren shirts,” Eggsy said quietly, his eyes falling closed. Harry was warm and soft. 

Harry chuckled quietly. “Yes, I do.”

At some point Eggsy had fallen asleep. When he woke up again, the light was off and he was lying on his side, Harry’s loosely wrapped around him. It was warm in the room, but not too warm. He was so intensely comfortable and waking to Harry’s arm around him was something he’d barely allowed himself to imagine. 

He stretched his legs, trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake Harry up. He didn’t have to worry, as it turned out.

“Did I wake you?” Harry whispered.

“Mmm,” Eggsy hummed happily. “No, don’t think so- didn’t realise I’d fallen asleep.”

“You were tired,” Harry murmured against Eggsy’s neck, his warm breath making him instinctively arch his back a little in pleasure. Which of course had the added effect of moving against Harry’s body. “I thought I ought to let you sleep.”

“Appreciated,” Eggsy replied. But the feel of Harry’s warmth meant he was going to struggle to get back to sleep. Especially with his fast growing boner. He shuffled closer to Harry, backing into his curved body. He gave a subtle, experimental wiggle of his bum- small enough to make it seem innocent and unintentional. It had the desired effect. 

Harry sighed loudly. “That doesn’t seem like the behaviour of a man who wants to go to sleep.” He noticed that Harry’s arm was pulling him slightly closer. 

Eggsy felt warm and sinuous, all the better for being a bit sleepy. He wriggled happily in Harry’s arms and tangled their legs, running a foot up and down Harry’s inner calf. “You know how I wasn’t feeling up to it before?”

“Mmmm?” Harry hummed against his skin. It sent a pleasant shiver through him. Harry’s hand laid patiently on his outstretched arm, waiting for the word. 

“Well, I might’ve changed my mind a little bit.”

“You don’t say.” As his hand found it’s way under Eggsy’s shirt, Harry’s lips began to lay gentle kisses at the back of his neck. Eggsy let out a shaky breath, back arching again. Exploratory fingers were skating over his stomach and chest, nipples, collar bone. Again, he was usually quiet when he was in these kinds of situations, and yet as Harry propped himself up slightly to gain better access to Eggsy’s neck, planting kisses along him without missing out a single of inch of skin, he heard himself make a quiet whine of pleasure. He was still pressed against Harry, and he could feel _everything_ and Jesus Christ-

Rolling onto his back, Eggsy brought Harry into a kiss. It was dark and fumbling at first and yet somehow that made the kiss even better. It made him feel everything even more keenly; like his shirt being lifted off, Harry’s shortly after that; his fingers running through Harry’s hair and the surprised little moan into his mouth that was returned; the curve of Harry’s back under his drifting hands. But even then-

“I want to see you,” Eggsy whispered against Harry’s lips. 

The man hummed in agreement and switched a distant lamp on from the wall, bathing them in a deep orange light. Eggsy looked up at him; he had bed hair. And with his glasses off, he’d noticed before, he seemed so much less severe. And his eyes- so dark and warm. 

And his body wasn’t too fucking bad either.

Uncharacteristically messy hair was beginning to crowd Harry’s face; Eggsy brushed it back gently and affectionately before pulling him into another kiss. Harry traced Eggsy’s jaw with his lips, hand sliding lower down his body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said against his skin, and it made Eggsy’s breath stutter. When he began to line kisses down his body, taking off his underwear-

“Fuck-” 

Now Harry was taking him in his mouth and it was fucking wonderful, and he pushed Eggsy’s hips down when they bucked. 

“Stay put, please,” Harry demanded.

Fucking hell, Harry knew what he was doing, more than anyone else he’d been with, and maybe that was a perk of dating an older guy- he gripped the sheets and rolled his head back. Harry didn’t show signs of moving on or stopping, he was determined to see this through and at this rate though and Eggsy was grateful for this- which he made very clear- but he also wasn’t going to last very long, and he wanted to go further than this. 

“Harry- I want you-”

There was a hum of appreciation that buzzed through Eggsy and made the experience even more amazing. Harry paused his work to say slyly, “One thing at a time.”

“You fucking tease,” Eggsy managed to say before he could feel himself climaxing. It was pretty glorious, and Harry didn’t stop, guiding through to the end. It left him soft and pliant, and he pulled Harry into a sleepy kiss. 

“That was a bit embarrassingly quick,” Eggsy admitted with a little laugh.

“Don’t feel too bad. I’m just rather good,” Harry replied seriously and Eggsy let out a proper loud laugh. 

And the night went from there. It was so comfortable and full of laughs and fun, like nothing he’d experienced before. He let Harry show him the ropes- not literally, though Eggsy said maybe next time- and he was happy to let the man test him, to take charge. Harry wanted to show him things, show him the things his body could do and Eggsy was more than happy to comply, to let his body respond to Harry’s lessons, to be entirely his for the taking. That teacher-student dynamic hadn’t entirely disappeared, and this time round, like every other lesson, Harry wanted him to have the best experience possible. It felt like Harry was giving him everything he could; but it wasn’t just that he wanted to do things to him, be in control. It was filled with affection and generosity, like he wanted to fill Eggsy up with all the attention he’d been missing his whole life. 

When the both finally fell asleep, Eggsy’s head laid on Harry’s chest, Eggsy slept deeply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguments can bring you together, in the end.

A few weeks later and the Fletcher plot had thickened. Eggsy had managed to meet up with him one to one, feigning an interest in donating a large amount of money to Fletcher’s foundation. With a good dose of chats about growing up on the estates- Eggsy insinuating that he’d been involved with drugs before and how it had helped him get to where he was- he got a little bit more info about the business. 

Fletcher was understandably closed off about the matter. Eggsy didn’t get much else other than hopefully the man’s friendship and trust. They had dinner set up for a couple of weeks time to discuss Eggsy’s contributions further. Merlin was pleased with how things were plodding along. With any luck, Eggsy would be able to get involved under cover- failing that, he would find out when Fletcher was next going to be at his base in Russia, which Kingsman could intercept.

Meanwhile, Harry was spending most nights at Eggsy’s. They had finally watched Pretty Woman together- he could fully understand what Roxy was so surprised about now. Eggsy had spent the rest of the day teasing Harry for it. “Haha, you fancied me,” was said at least ten times- the first time he was met with a weary eye roll, but after the fifth time Harry sighed dramatically and pulled Eggsy into a kiss. 

“Yes, I did ‘fancy’ you. Are you quite done now?” 

“Well, I mean, now I know you’re gonna kiss me if I say it- nah, not done just yet,” Eggsy quipped with a big smile. Harry wiped it right his face with another kiss.

Most evenings Harry was around, and Eggsy got to show off his wicked cooking skills. Daisy and Harry had become good friends, and Eggsy had to tell him to stop picking her up, or she’d never learn to walk properly. As soon as he’d suggested it, Harry was determined to help teach her, holding the little girl’s hands and guiding her across the room. 

One night, when Harry was helping Eggsy was make a Sunday roast, they discovered that they shared a taste for cheesy 80s and early 90s music. Eggsy listened to music when he cooked, and this time he was wiggling happily to Pulp whist seasoning some vegetables. Harry was washing some sprouts. 

“You were barely alive when this song came out,” Harry muttered bitterly as Eggsy sang the words to Common People.

“Yeh, and? It’s a fucking good song.” He didn’t want to admit he only knew the album because he’d stolen his mum’s CD when he was a kid. 

“That it is,” Harry agreed. 

“Do we have to have sprouts?” Eggsy moaned as he poured them onto the roasting tray with the other vegetables. “They’re rank, Harry.”

“Well I can eat them,” Harry argued. Eggsy responded by singing lyrics badly in Harry’s face. 

“Come here,” Harry took Eggsy’s hand and spun him round to the music. They danced for the whole song, both awful singers, basically saying the words at each other without even trying. 

It was so hilariously apt that Eggsy couldn’t help but laugh every time he shouted: “You want to sleep with common people?” and Harry knew the words well enough to say the part of the posh rich girl in the song. It was absurd and wonderful. Daisy would have joined in too- Eggsy loved to dance with her- but she was with Michelle for the weekend, who’d earned a few days out of rehab and wanted to spend it with her daughter. When the song ended Eggsy crashed into Harry’s arms. 

“I love you,” Harry laughed, his face buried in his hair. Eggsy tensed up in his arms and stepped away from him. 

“You what?” 

Harry looked back at him sweetly- but his defences were up. That was his professional smile. He didn’t respond. Eggsy stood in the middle of the kitchen, arms hanging uselessly by his sides. Harry was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. 

“You love me,” Eggsy repeated. Harry only waited as silence ensued.

“Is that all you have to say?” Harry asked a little bitterly. 

“I -” Eggsy stumbled, blinking stupidly. “You-” Grabbing a chair he let himself down onto it uneasily. “I don’t know what to say, Harry.”

The oven hummed in the background. No one said anything for a minute. Harry clenched his jaw uncomfortably.

“Well. If the answer isn’t immediately obvious then I should probably let myself out.” The man swept up his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

“No, Harry- wait-” he jumped out of his seat.

“What for?” Harry snapped. The cruelty in his voice made Eggsy stop in his tracks. “Wait for you to figure out that you’ve made the wrong choice here? For you to decide this is all getting to serious?”

Eggsy coughed in disbelief. “The fuck? I ain’t saying any of those things, Harry, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting-”

“You need to grow up, Eggsy. Grow up and start realising you make a difference in other people’s lives.” He stormed out of the flat, leaving Eggsy breathless, standing in the kitchen. The oven timer went off; it had warmed up for the chicken and vegetables. 

Eggsy went to the window and opened it, hanging his head out. Harry was already half way round the corner, he couldn’t call him back.

“Fucking hell,” Eggsy muttered, slamming the window shut again. He turned the oven off and shoved the prepared food in the fridge. Pausing at the fridge, he wasn’t really sure what to do next. Had they just broken up? What the fuck had just happened?

One minute he was dancing with Harry and it all seemed perfect, the next… It had gone from 0-60 pretty fucking quickly. Hearing those words had really freaked him out and now that Harry had gone, leaving him by himself, he realised how much of a twat he’d been just not saying anything. Because of course he fucking loved him too, he’d known as much for a while. It was just an absolutely fucking terrifying thing to accept- that you loved someone. That you were dedicated enough to them that they could break your heart in a second, hurt you just like everyone else did. Why did he have to let his trust issues get in the way? The answer had been obvious; he just couldn’t say it. And couldn’t, almost didn’t want to believe that Harry really loved him. There was just so much to lose. Too much. Everything.

Eggsy’s hands slid down his face. “Fucking hell,” he said again. 

But Harry knew all that about him. He fucking knew all of this, so why did he have to be such a twat about it and go slamming doors and shit? Harry knew how much Eggsy had let him in- more than anyone else- and knew how much it meant. He’d been so understanding, and now suddenly he’d lost patience, so quickly. It left a stabbing regret in his chest. 

_You need to grow up, Eggsy._. 

Eggsy instinctively found his phone and called. “Rox?”

“Hello lovely,” Roxy said. “You OK?” Eggsy didn’t usually call her; their communication was usually based on Snapchat and messenger.

“Yeh, yeh, fine, just- Harry and I got in an argument and I’m desperate for a drink.”

“On it,” Roxy said simply. “Meet you at your local?”

“You’re a fucking star, Rox.”

“No probs, Eggsy, see you in a mo.”

Roxy, thankfully, lived close by. They often spent weekends together before Harry had commandeered most of Eggsy’s spare time, either going to the pub or cooking for each other. More often than not, Rox was at Eggsy’s, taking advantage of his cooking and playing with Daisy. When she had broken up with a particularly stupid, posh tosser, they’d done exactly this. 

Eggsy’s local pub was a Lamb and Flag. It was pretty basic and old fashioned, with your shitty pinball machines and green bar stools, but it did the best steak and ale pie Eggsy’d ever eaten. It was alcohol he was after right now though as he stormed in, leaning forward at the bar and rubbing his face wearily. 

“Alright, Eggsy?” Steve the barman said, drying a glass. “Bad day?”

“Sort of,” he replied. It hadn’t been until things went tits up. “Pint of Peroni, please, bruv. And a large house red for the lady.”

“Roxy coming tonight?” Steve winked. He must have thought they were dating.

“Yeh, it’s not what you think though, bruv,” Eggsy laughed tiredly. 

Roxy came about ten minutes later, swinging her coat and bag off before giving Eggsy a big hug, sliding opposite him in the booth. 

“Alright. Tell me everything,” she said with business like efficiency. “Ooh, thanks for the wine, lovely.”

Eggsy waved a dismissive hand. “It’s- it’s- ugh. Basically, Harry told me he loved me, and-”

Roxy almost choked on her glug of wine, a hand flying to her mouth as she swallowed with effort. “Oh, bloody hell!” she gasped. “That’s amazing news Eggsy!”

“Yeh…” he said weakly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of his pint. “I’m freaking out a bit about it, ‘s all.”

She nodded knowledgably. See, Roxy understood. “What did you say?” He told her. Roxy sighed in frustration. 

“I know,” he conceded. “I was just too fucking freaked out to say anything yet, and then he told me to grow up-”

“Oh, Harry,” Roxy shook her head. “He knows full well it’s not because you’re immature.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eggsy muttered. 

“Silly fucker,” Roxy said. “You mucked up, for sure, but he’s royally fucked up. You can’t tell someone to grow up because they have well founded commitment issues.”

“Thank you,” Eggsy cried. “…I think.”

“Then what?” 

“He grabbed his jacket and stormed out like the sulky wanker he is,” Eggsy muttered. “Hopefully this time he won’t fuck off to America and almost die.”

Roxy didn’t grace that with a laugh. “Honestly, you two,” was all she said. Eggsy had a large gulp of lager. It was disappearing quickly. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at him like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. “As in, are you going to message him? Or are you going to wait for him to message you? Do you feel bad enough to apologise first? Or do you reckon he fucked up more and should make the first move?”

Eggsy blinked. “What the fuck. You’re going to have to start again. I have no idea what you just fucking said.”

“Boys,” Roxy moaned, her wine vanishing as fast as his own Peroni. “Don’t you think about these things? Were you literally just not going to speak to him?”

“I dunno,” Eggsy shrugged. “I suppose?”

Roxy sighed and closed her eyes in frustration, much to Eggsy’s confusion. What had he missed? “If I were you, I’d apologise for responding the way you did, but make it clear you’re pissed of at him because he acted like a twat. Apologising first doesn’t make you less in control- it gives you the moral high ground,” she asserted confidently. Fucking hell she was making this complicated. “Sound fair?”

“I don’t wanna message him first,” he said, staring into glass. “But s’pose the moral high ground sounds about right,” he added quietly.

“ _Do_ you love him?” She asked quietly. Eggsy pouted as he summoned the courage.

“Yeah, I do. Fucking hell, I do.”

“So it is literally just because… this is a bit overwhelming for you,” Roxy said tactfully. She knew enough about Eggsy that she didn’t need to articulate that it was actually because Eggsy was terrified of commitment due to his father dying, his mother going mental, and his step dad tainting every good relationship in his life. 

“Pretty much, yeh,” he nodded, polishing off his first pint. 

“Let me get the next one,” she said, disappearing to the bar. For the next couple of hours they drank and chatted, and for a while, Eggsy could distract himself from the pain spreading through his chest. They shared some chips- Eggsy’s dinner had been thrown angrily in the fridge, after all- and made their way to the nearest, cheesiest club. 

“What should I say?” he asked, walking into people as he tried to type a message to Harry. Roxy and him stood in the middle of the pavement formulating the perfect text whilst drunk people flowed around them. When he sent it off Roxy took his phone and put it in her purse. 

“I’ll keep an eye on it myself, OK? For now, you’re going to dance and drink.” He gave it up reluctantly.

“ _Do_ I need to grow up, Rox?” he whined. 

“No, not like that anyway,” she linked her arm with his as they waited in the queue. “You’re doing well, babe.”

“Then why is he being a dick? Why did I fall for such a posh twat?” he moaned drunkenly. 

“Men are idiots, you get this now you’re dating one,” she advised. “It’s just because he’s freaking out as much as you, for whatever reason- you’d know better than me.” 

He thought on this as they queued. Harry had told him very little about his life other than the fact that he’d been an orphan and grown up with emotionally distant parents. He’d had some pretty disastrous relationships in the past. That probably contributed to his own commitment issues. He put this aside for later consideration as the bouncers let them in. 

Mackelmore was playing and girls were going round with shot glasses selling tequila. The room wasn’t that full yet, it being still quite early, but it was hot and people were sweaty. Someone was drunk enough to have dropped a bottle of beer on the dance floor, anyway. It was the really cheesy kind of dance floor that lit up in different colours and the DJ looked like he was several decades too old for the job- which was why he was playing so many classics. There was a hen party dancing at the front by the DJ booth. 

“I need another drink if we’re gonna do this,” Eggsy commented.

“Agreed.” Two jaeger bombs later and they were dancing to Beyoncé. 

Eggsy was definitely on his way to being drunk now, but he wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to be. Before, all he’d wanted was to numb the ache of anxiety and hurt in his chest. Now he just wanted to hear back from Harry. Dancing was good though, and being with Roxy was a blessing. When Tainted Love came on, he noticed your average club creep sidle up to Roxy, and Eggsy spun her round so he could dance in between them. 

“Can I have my phone?” He shouted. Roxy rolled her eyes.

“Just don’t spend the night texting him,” she shouted back. 

Eggsy gratefully took his phone back, shuffling absent mindedly to the music. Harry hadn’t texted back yet. He pocketed his phone and shrugged in response to Roxy’s inquisitive look. 

_Fuck him._

It wasn’t until Take On Me came on that Eggsy began to loosen up, miming the keyboard solo with Roxy. He never used to go on a night out without hooking up with someone; just dancing with mates was way fucking better. He didn’t drink much more- they both had a beer, but otherwise he really didn’t fancy waking up tomorrow feeling shit emotionally and physically. So they danced until early morning, slowly coming down from the buzz of the long string of pints he’d enjoyed in the pub.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he stopped dancing suddenly and fumbled in his jeans pocket. 

_Where are you?_

Eggsy showed Roxy his phone screen, and she winced to read it in the flashing lights. “Just tell him?” she shrugged. 

_Out with Rox in some shit club, why_

He found himself staring at his phone, waiting for the tell tale ellipsis to let him now when Harry was typing. Roxy took his phone back and put it in her bag again. When he made a face at her to complain, she merely shouted, “Don’t drive yourself crazy.”

Cindi Lauper was playing and the hen do were screaming along to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Their enthusiasm was strangely infectious. He ended up really enjoying the night. It was impossible to fight off his feelings from the argument, but dancing to shit music certainly helped. Of course, it was helping, until Common People came on. Roxy read him like a book.

“What’s wrong? You want to go?”

“No it’s fine- I just wish I could talk to him face to face.” 

Roxy’s eyes peered over his shoulder and widened. Her hand went up to her mouth to cover a laugh. She nodded to something behind him. 

Standing in the entranceway of the dance floor was Harry Hart- suit and all. In a shitty place like this he stood out like a sore thumb, his hair combed back perfectly and suit clean and crisp. He didn’t match with the smell of sweat and the unidentified sticky alcohol on the floor, or the miserable people around him. He was leaning against the door, waiting for him. How did he find him? He must have either figured out this was where he’d be, or he’d been going from club to club looking for him.

“I’ll head off and leave you,” Roxy said, kissing him on the cheek. “Here’s your phone.”

“Thank you so much, Rox,” he said sincerely. “You’re a fucking angel. I owe you one.”

“Of course you don’t.” She ran off past Harry, giving him a little wave before disappearing. Eggsy followed suit and went to meet him.

“What are you doing here?” he said, unable to hold back a laugh.

“To find you, of course,” he said, looking around the dingy club with a strong hint of disdain. “And to apologise.”

Eggsy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well… apology accepted. And, like I said, I’m sorry too.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, Eggsy playing with his lapel.

“I have things to say, but… not the best place-”

“Let’s go home,” Harry agreed. 

When they got back to Eggsy’s apartment, Eggsy put the kettle on. He’d developed a taste for the weird decaffeinated tea Harry drunk before bed. Sitting beside Harry on the sofa in his living room, he passed a cup to him.

“Thank you.”

Eggsy kicked his Nikes off and crossed his legs on the sofa. JB trotted in from his room, where he usually slept, and curled up by his feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t…”

“No, no, I’m sorry I was so ghastly and pressured you when you clearly weren’t ready,” Harry said. “I said some terrible things, which I said wrongly and out of defensiveness. I… realise what it meant to you, and-”

“I love you,” Eggsy interrupted. He was too afraid to look at him. “I… I love you, too,” he added, Harry’s hand found Eggsy’s. He was so relieved. “It’s just so much to lose.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry said after a few moments of contemplative quiet. “Not this time.”

“You’re a secret agent, Harry,” Eggsy argued. “Anything could happen to either of us.” 

“I refuse,” Harry retorted childishly. Eggsy snorted. “I have to say, I am bloody relieved that you’ve come to this conclusion. I thought for a moment maybe I’d really cocked up and that this had all been unrequited.” 

Eggsy winced. “Sorry.”

“No, not at all. Just typical Harry Hart, choosing the wrong moment.”

Eggsy sipped his tea. It was too hot. He blew it and tried again. Nope, still too hot. It always infuriated Harry how he tried to eat and drink before anything had cooled down, like it would disappear if he didn’t consume it instantly. He found himself doing it on purpose to piss him off. 

He didn’t want his fucked up life to get in the way like this all the time; and for things to change, he had to be brave. So, when he eventually gave up on his scalding tea, putting it down, he took a deep breath and turned to Harry.

“I love you.”

Harry looked surprised by the determination in Eggsy’s voice and expression as he did this. “I love you, too, Eggsy,” he said with a hint of humour in his voice. His eyes widened slightly as Eggsy took his tea from his hand, putting it aside, and straddled Harry on the sofa. 

“I love you,” he asserted again. It sounded right. It felt right. Scary, new, but right. And Harry’s expression of curiosity and affection made it all the better. “Trying to get used to it,” he explained.

“I love you, too,” was Harry’s reply. “You beautiful, complicated boy.”

 

It was three in the morning and neither men were asleep. Lying sleepily in the dark, eyes closed and breathing each other in, they both feigned sleep. It was too late to sleep and too early to stay awake. So they did neither, wrapped up in each other’s arms. JB decided that was a good time to trot in and snuffle his way between them. Eggsy’s alarm clock ticked noisily in the background, the orange glow of London night sky finding it’s way underneath his curtains. It was hard to imagine sleeping without some sort of background noise, without a bit of light, having grown up in London his whole life.

“You awake?” Eggsy whispered, as if at a sleepover. Harry shifted slowly and stretched out the arm that Eggsy was lying on. 

“Yes, sort of.”

“Where were you? After Kentucky?”

Harry sighed. “Bloody hell, Eggsy, I’m half asleep. Do we have to have this conversation?”

“Yes,” he asserted. “I want to know.”

Eggsy shuffled away from Harry’s embrace so he could see his face a little better, bathed in London’s orange nightlight. Hesitation and anxiety drew taught lines across the man’s face. JB wriggled his way into the gap between them. The ticking clock heightened the anticipation as Eggsy waited for Harry to respond. His hand rubbed the shadow of stubble on his chin as he prepared his story. 

“There’s a secret service over there, in Kentucky. They were keeping an eye on our work with Valentine. When they saw what happened at the church…” he trailed off and let out a slow breath. “I woke up in their medical bay. I was released after a month in their care. From that point on I spent another month drinking myself into oblivion, going from shitty bar to shitty bar, waking up in motels.”

“Why? We could’ve helped,” Eggsy said hoarsely.

“I needed time. I wasn’t ready to come back, to face…” he swallowed. “Eggsy, I killed all those people. I couldn’t bear to come back and continue on with life as if it’d never happened. I needed to come to terms with it. Time alone helped me get there. You know that if I told anyone, Merlin would have put me on the first plane home and put me in counselling, and that wasn’t what I needed at the time. All I wanted was to learn to live with myself again.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Harry said. “We… weren’t on such close terms at that point. And… I was worried… you’d be disappointed with me.”

“What the fuck,” Eggsy retorted. 

“You did punch me in the face, when I returned,” Harry argued.

“Only because you’d disappeared. What happened in the church wasn’t you- I never thought of it that way.”

“Yes, well, I came to that conclusion too, eventually. But only because I had that time alone.”

“Drinking yourself into oblivion,” Eggsy added.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, perhaps not the best medicine, but it seemed to have worked out alright.”

Eggsy considered this. “Yeah, aight. S’pose that’s acceptable. So long as you don’t blame yourself anymore. Wasn’t your fault.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “You are one of the most considerate, kind people I’ve ever met. Do you know that?”

Eggsy blinked. “Er, thanks.” Roxy had said something similar a couple of weeks ago. It had never occurred to him. _You’re so good to the people you care about,_ she’d said.

“I don’t, not anymore.”

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though,” Harry looked at him inquisitively. “Time alone, getting your head round it all, fine, yeh? But how the fuck are you alive? You was shot in the fucking head, Harry.”

“Ah,” Harry laughed. “I don’t understand the specifics. You’d have to ask the agency over in Kentucky, and their doctor. All I know is that Valentine wasn’t a particularly good aim… the bullet broke through the glasses, as you know, and… into my eye.”

Eggsy put two and two together, stroking the scar at his brow bone. “You’re eye… does that mean?”

His eyes looked no different. Brown and warm and melancholy, as they always did. 

“Oh my God. Is that a glass eye?”

Harry looked away and huffed grumpily. “I believe it’s fibreglass, specifically.”

“Oh my fucking God!” Eggsy laughed. “You have a glass eye? That’s fucking hilarious!”

“Eggsy, please,” Harry complained, though he was struggling not to laugh.

Eggsy cackled childishly. 

“You know what makes it worse? I had to wear an eye patch for two months. I looked like a fucking pirate. A particular poncy fucking pirate.”

Eggsy could barely breath. “You’ve got a glass eye,” he gasped. “Oh my god.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Harry said, before they both burst into a fresh bout of laughter.

God he loved Harry Hart and his stupid glass eye. He loved him so fucking much.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandos and nights out

Eggsy didn’t really like to tell people about his birthday; generally it was a pretty sad affair. Mum would always try to make an effort, but bless her, there wasn’t much you could do with no money and the fear of Dean coming in any second. So, Eggsy usually met up with Jamal and Ryan. This year wasn’t any different; all he had planned was going to Nandos with the boys, maybe followed by a few drinks out if he could drop Daisy off with the nanny. But _apparently_ a certain Roxy had told everyone at Kingsman. She’d created a Facebook event two days before his birthday- a Friday- and invited pretty much all of the round table, as well as Ryan and Jamal. After Nandos, a small gathering was planned. Daisy’s nanny had practically coerced him into taking the night off- she was a star, and was becoming more and more of a live in nanny, with all of the away missions Eggsy’s been doing the past month or two. 

Harry had taken Eggsy to the opera the night before. A predictable choice, but wow, he wasn’t expecting to enjoy it so much. He had no idea what any of the singers were actually saying, but he found he didn’t have to. When the lights went up, he found himself quite shaken with how emotional it had been. 

When his actual birthday came, it was indeed celebrated with a Nandos trip, for whoever wanted to show up. Honestly, the image of the Kingsman having a cheeky Nandos left Eggsy in mental disarray. Only a few people did turn up for that- Jamal and Ryan, of course, Roxy, Naja (were they dating now? They seemed especially chummy), Gawain, and Harry. Eggsy fucking loved that Harry came.

“You show me the finer things in life- I’ll show you Nandos,” Eggsy said, sitting down at the window table with a little ‘reserved’ sign on it. 

“I’ll have you know, that I have tried plenty of fast food before.”

“That McDonald’s you fought your way through with Valentine doesn’t count.”

“I ate it, didn’t I?” Harry countered. Thank God he wasn’t wearing a suit tonight. How fucking weird would someone in a suit look in Nandos. 

“God, this looks absolutely bloody perfect,” Gawain said happily. “You get awfully sick of those stupid, tiny portions at The Dorchester and such.”

At the moment, it was only the four Kingsman. Jamal and Ryan were due to turn up soon, which scared the shit out of Eggsy. They thought they were all tailors. They also thought all Eggsy’s new friends, apart from Rox, were too posh for them- a fair enough assumption. And they didn’t know about Harry being his boyfriend yet.

His phone buzzed. Roxy.

_Stop panicking. I can feel you panicking from here_

Harry snooped a cheeky look at his phone. Eggsy glared at him. Harry gave an apologetic hands-up. 

_This is two very different worlds colliding, Rox. How weird is this going to be?_

“What’s the point in you both messaging each other at the table if you’re both sitting right in front of each other?” Harry remarked dryly.

“They’re bitching about you and don’t want you to see,” Gawain replied, still scanning the menu. “Butterfly chicken. Is it ‘butterfly’ because of the way it’s been prepared?”

_It’s going to be fine, you silly sausage  
I wouldn’t have organised this if I hadn’t thought long and hard about it  
Besides Jamal and Ryan want to meet the rest of the work gang, they’re really excited about it_

_I guess_

_I’ll kick Gawain if he gets too posh, OK?_

_Haha love you Rox_

_Love you too, doll_

They put away their phones, Roxy blowing Eggsy a kiss. 

“You quite done, yet?” Harry joked.

“Yep. Know what you want?” 

“I think so. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.”

“I get the same thing every time,” he said simply, grabbing his wallet and getting ready to order.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked. Gawain looked equally confused. Roxy laughed.

“You order at the counter,” Eggsy said, beckoning him over. “Come on.”

Harry didn’t look entirely pleased. 

“And so the mentor becomes the mentee.” Eggsy joked, linking arms with Harry as they went to order food. 

 

Turns out, the Nandos dinner went really well- really really well. Gawain, typically, was brilliant and funny, knowing when to take the piss out of himself. Jamal and Ryan enjoyed the new company, and seemed to get on fine with Harry. They loved Naja, who was on brilliant form tonight. At one point, Ryan’s eyes flitted between Eggsy and Harry, finally giving Eggsy an inquisitive look. He’d have to explain that later, then.

It was becoming pretty obvious that Jamal and Ryan knew they weren’t tailors. They weren’t stupid, and the Kingsmen present realised it. Every reference to their work was cloaked in an especially conspicuous lie, an intentional hint to the fact that everyone at the table knew exactly what they did.

On their way back to Eggsy’s, only a couple of streets down from the Nandos, Eggsy heard Ryan chatting to Roxy.

“Rox, babe- is Eggsy going out with Harry?”

“Yeah- he hasn’t told you yet?”

Eggsy turned round as he walked, to find the three of them watching expectantly.

“Fucking- yes, thank you Roxy. Yes, we are dating.”

Harry stayed blissfully out of the conversation. 

“You ain’t even bothered to tell your best friends in the whole world that you got a boyfriend now?” Jamal whined. 

“Aint never seemed like a good time, yeh? I wasn’t gonna message you both like, ‘’ey, jus’ so you know, got a boyfriend now’.”

“That’s exactly what you fucking do, you twat,” Ryan laughed, jumping up to Eggsy and putting him in a headlock. 

“Aight, aight, sorry mate,” Eggsy scuffled with Ryan, trying to unlock himself.

“Are they always like this when they’re together,” Harry asked with amusement. 

“Fucking always,” Jamal replied.

When they reached his flat, Eggsy stopped in his tracks, planted in the doorway. There were streamers everywhere, Happy Birthday bunting and a table of drinks and food in the living room at the end of the hallway. There was even a small pile of presents. 

“What the fuck?” Eggsy said simply. 

“Oh, yeh, sorry, Harry and I popped by when you were doing your shopping, before dinner.” Roxy slipped past him, spreading her arms and showing off her work. 

Eggsy looked up at Harry. “You ain’t got any of my keys, though?”

Harry almost looked sorry for him. “Darling, you know fully well that any of us could get in any time we want to.”

“Fucking weirdos,” Eggsy laughed, kissing Harry on the cheek and hugging Roxy. “This is awesome, thank you! I think there’s only going to be the five of us, though.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Naja pointed at him, before pouring herself some lemonade. She was wearing a particularly beautiful hijab tonight, all celebratory reds and yellows. “I managed to convince several people to come tonight.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeh, seriously,” Naja grinned. 

“Like who?” Eggsy span round, to find the others coming in and closing the flat door behind them.

“I believe Percival may be making a brief appearance,” Gawain said, saying it as if a celebrity were going to showing their face. 

“Fucking Percival! No way!”

“Merlin promised he’d come by later, too,” Harry said, a hand finding it’s way around Eggsy’s waist. They looked about the newly decorated living room, and the table of alcohol that looked… frightening. 

“I… won’t be staying forever, though, Eggsy, I hope that’s OK?” she looked apologetic, but Eggsy saw no reason.

“Nah, it’s probably going to be a massive piss up, by the looks of that drinks table- stick around for as long as you want, babe.”

“Cheers, lovely.”

Meanwhile, Gawain was already pouring himself a gin and tonic. “May as well start the night as we mean to continue.”

People began to dribble in slowly, and Naja left after about half an hour. The first to come was Percival, who only showed his face for about half an hour himself, enough time to catch Merlin, who had bought Eggsy an amazing new watch. He was happily nursing a whiskey now in the corner of his living room. Ryan and Jamal had brought their own drinks, and added them to the table- including an absolutely toxic drink that the three of them had created in their teenage years.

“You must be fucking kidding, mate,” Eggsy shook his head as Jamal poured himself some. “It’s only 9:30pm. Drink that shit now and you know you’ll be gone.”

“I think I’ve developed a _certain tolerance_ for it,” Jamal joked.

“What is it?” Roxy asked, staring at the reused litre lemonade bottle in concern.

“Lethal,” Eggsy said. “I don’t even fucking remember what we put in it.”

Ryan rubbed his hands together, sitting on the floor and leaning against the sofa next to Eggsy. “Vodka, absinthe-”

“Jesus,” Merlin muttered. 

“- schnapps, rum… and coke.”

Eggsy covered his face with one hand and laughed, comfortably leaning against Harry on his sofa. “Last time I had that I was 18.”

“Yeh, and that’s why your 18th was fucking brilliant,” Jamal laughed. 

“How does such an atrocity even come about?” Harry said, gingerly taking a glass of the drink that Jamal had handed to him.

“Boredom,” Eggsy admitted. “And a combination of several drinks cabinets.”

“Sounds an awful lot like something I did when my parents weren’t looking,” Gawain commented. “Go on then.”

“Wasn’t this meant to be a sort of classy event?” Eggsy asked Roxy.

“I never expected it to turn out that way,” Roxy sighed, perching herself next to Ryan, taking a picture of the room on Snapchat. “I only hoped.”

“You ought to know, Eggsy,” Merlin began, taking a glass of the mixture himself, “that when Gawain is present, things don’t remain sober for long.”

“I knew that already,” he laughed.

“You are not much better, Merlin, and don’t you pretend that you are,” Harry chided. 

The man pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t you start that argument, Harry Fucking Hart. You and I both know there are plenty of stories I could tell from our Oxford days.”

Gawain slammed back the drink. 

“That the best you can do, boys?” He smirked at Ryan and Jamal. “Pathetic. Let me show you how to make real poison.”

Considering that Gawain’s specialty was, in fact, death by poison, that was a particularly concerning phrase to behold. Especially when he poured the entire of the old lemonade bottle’s contents into a punch bowl and began to mix with various other bottles of booze. 

 

It was from around that point that things really began to go tits up- in the best possible way. 

How many drinks had been consumed up to now? He wasn’t sure. How many people would remember this night? Probably none. How many people had jumped off of Eggsy’s balcony and into the bush below? Three- Jamal, followed by Gawain and Roxy. How many times had Eggsy pulled Harry aside and drunkenly told him he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him? Just the once, so far. 

Whatever Gawain had done to the already lethal cocktail, it had pushed them over the edge. Never in his wildest dreams had Eggsy believed he’d ever see Harry so drunk. The man was practically asleep on the sofa. Eggsy should probably have felt a bit guilty for how much he was enjoying this- but, he didn’t. 

Right now, Merlin and Ryan were having a particularly serious chat. From what Eggsy could gather, Merlin was talking about growing up in Glasgow, and Ryan was nodding sagely, barely able to keep his eyes open. Eggsy was draped over Harry, who was lethargically stroking his hair. Roxy and Jamal had disappeared somewhere. 

“Let’s go out,” Ryan announced, “Eggsy. Eggsy. Eggsy- Eggsy Eggsy Eggsy-”

“Fucking _what_ ,” Eggsy moaned. 

“Let’s go out,” he repeated.

“ _Yes_ , Ryan!” He punched the air, narrowly missing Harry’s nose. 

“I doubt we’ll even be let in, pal,” Merlin said. He was disturbingly good at pretending he was sober, except for the fact that his Scottish accent had multiplied in strength by about ten. 

“You know,” Ryan began, patting Merlin’s knee sloppily, “you’re my mate, Merlin, you are, but you’re fucking wrong. We’re going.” Merlin didn’t have any response to that, only nodded seriously.

“What’s happening?” Jamal and Roxy came in, having clearly had a rather intense drunk conversation.

“We’re going out, apparently,” Merlin announced. Meanwhile, Harry was happily observing the shirt storm unfurl. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jamal danced happily. “Where, where, where?”

“There’s a nice little bar just down the road from here,” Gawain said. 

“You’re not taking us to a fucking gentleman’s club, Gawain,” Eggsy demanded.

“Nothing of the sort!” Gawain retorted, seeming rather sulky at the idea that he would do such a thing. “It’s a perfectly lovely, non-blokey bar, with a rooftop and everything.”

“Am I gonna get in in trainers, though?” Jamal stuck his foot out to provide an example of said shoes. 

“They know me, it’s fine,” Harry finally contributed. Eggsy couldn’t help but laugh, leaving Harry looking a little insulted. 

“’Course they fucking do,” Eggsy said. “Where is it?”

“Covent Garden,” Harry replied, as if it were obvious.

“Fucking hell, we ain’t getting in there! We ain’t getting in there, though,” Ryan emphasised. “It’s a Friday fucking night.”

“Don’t- don’t underestimate our abilities to get into a fancy club on a Friday night,” Roxy advised. 

And so it was decided. The motley gang hailed a large taxi and found themselves on Drury lane, after Gawain and Ryan argued about paying for the taxi- Gawain insisted he pay, no arguments. Ryan didn’t like that, causing a short argument which was very swiftly forgotten about. Harry, who had been wearing a cardigan, was cross at Eggsy who had forced him to change- he had some clothes at the flat, considering how much stayed over. Eggsy was adamant that Harry could absolutely not go out in a fucking cardigan, and the only thing that concerned Harry about the matter was that he had to take some kind of jacket with him, and there were none of those at the flat. He was eventually convinced that it was socially acceptable to leave the house in just a shirt. Eggsy changed too- into his favourite bomber jacket and snap back, which resulted in a surprising drunken make out session in his room with Harry. Apparently he liked the look, too.

On the ride over, Eggsy had to find out what Jamal and Roxy were talking about- the three of them very loudly whispered ‘secretly’ about the matter. Roxy was nervous about approaching Naja and asking her on a date, and Roxy knew that some of Jamal’s family were Muslim and had sought counsel. The three of them were drunkenly discussing the complicated nature of religion, whilst Harry and Merlin were terribly singing some ridiculous chant they’d picked up from Oxford. 

At one point, Eggsy just laughed hysterically at the situation, without any explanation. What the fuck had become of his life?

The club was on Drury Lane- aptly named Drury Lane Club- and had a queue snaking around the corner. 

“Fucking Jesus!” Ryan cried out in despair. “Look at that, what the fuck is that?” Merlin consoled him. 

Harry, with some very convincing semblance of sobriety, strolled up to the front and shook the bouncer’s hand. Eggsy couldn’t hear their conversation, as he and Roxy were confessing their undying friendship to each other. It was a matter of seconds before Harry was ushering them in, much to the distaste of those queuing. Eggsy, Jamal, and Ryan gave a cheeky smile to the bouncer- a little, yeh, you wouldn’t usually let us in, in the state we’re in, but fuck you, kind of smile. 

It wasn’t packed inside the club. Eggsy supposed that’s what a nice club was like- not jammed full to the brim, but actually spacious enough to dance without wanting to punch everyone’s faces in. Roxy immediately dragged him to dance, whilst the others found a booth, and, miraculously, two bottles of champagne. Those were the perks of dating a posh guy, Eggsy supposed. The club was nice- people were dressed proper nice, too. Girls in expensive cocktail dresses and heels, a lot of the guys in suits. There was a birthday party happening across the other end of the club, with an ice sculpture and a VIP section cordoned off. He could see how Harry would fit in here- although Eggsy had to ask why he came here in the first place. Did he and the other Kingsman go out regularly? These were things he had to know. 

It just so turned out that one of Eggsy and Roxy’s songs was playing- Beyoncé, Crazy In Love. Apparently, Gawain couldn’t resist the urge to dance with them too- and he was a fucking ridiculous dancer. Limbs everywhere, gay as a balloon. It was absolutely fucking hilarious. This was by far the best birthday ever. 

There were a lot of Snapchat selfies going on, and at some point, Eggsy later realised, the club photographer even came by and got a picture of the three of them. That was going to be an interesting photo when he saw it in the sober light of day. They danced for a few more songs- each and every one brilliantly cheesy- before collapsing in the booth, Eggsy laying his head drunkenly on Harry’s shoulder.

“Thank you lot, so fucking much,” he screamed over the music. There was a chorus of happy birthdays and you’re welcomes, and Merlin passed him a champagne flute.

“Cheers!” Merlin called. Everyone clinked their glasses. 

This was fucking surreal. He really, really hoped he remembered some of it.

As if in answer, Roxy shoved her phone into Eggsy’s view. “I took a picture! Look how cute you are!” It was very nice. They all seemed so happy, including Harry. That was one to get framed. 

Eggsy remembered him and Jamal dancing to Backstreet Boys. He remembered 500 Miles coming on, and screaming the lyrics with Merlin. He remembered managing to dance with Harry, though it wasn’t on the dance floor. Tequila was consumed at some point, as if they needed it. Gawain and Eggsy had even come up with a sort of dance routine to Timber, which pretty much only involved slut dropping. The whole thing was ridiculous and perfect. He, Roxy, Jamal, and Ryan took far too many selfies, and Roxy seemed to be on a mission to document the night, photographing everyone doing anything. At some point she disappeared- Ryan said she wasn’t feeling well- but she reappeared about fifteen minutes later looking fine.

The second most surreal part of the night was when Merlin pulled Eggsy into a hug on the way to the bathroom.

“Merlin! Mate!” Eggsy cried in surprise.

“Happy birthday, pal.”

“You’re hugging me, what’s happening,” Eggsy fumbled. “You don’t like human feelings-”

“No, I don’t, and don’t remind me about it tomorrow,” Merlin agreed. “I’m just going to say that I’m happy and proud of you.”

He released him and uselessly straightened his shirt. Eggsy clenched his jaw and slapped him in the arm to re-affirm the testosterone. 

“Thanks, mate, yeh? You too, you too.”

The first most surreal part of the night, however, came right at the end. As they were leaving the club, at about three in the morning (“I’m too old to be awake this late”, Merlin complained) they stumbled to find the taxi rank. Drury Lane and Covent Garden had cobbled streets, which didn’t make it easier, especially for Roxy, who was wearing heels. 

“Unwin! Eh, Mugsy!”

Eggsy thought he must be hallucinating, but no, that was Dean. Ryan and Jamal instinctively found Eggsy’s side.

“The fuck you doin’ ‘ere?” Ryan spat. The others had just seen what was going on, forming a rank behind Eggsy.

“This is my fuckin’ station, innit?” Dean said, his lackeys crowding behind him. Dean had been promoted it seemed- being placed at London’s biggest night-life scene on a Friday night to deal was a big thing. 

Eggsy wished he could keep his eyes on him without everything moving. 

“I’m goin’ up in life, no thanks to you or your whore mum,” Dean taunted. Eggsy leapt forward, Harry and Jamal holding him back.

“It’s not worth it, mate,” Jamal muttered, sounding like he’d sobered up significantly. “Come on, let’s just end the night on a high, yeh?”

“Quite right,” Harry agreed.

Dean saw the unexpectedly posh present company, giving Kingsmen a look up and down, clearly not recognising Harry. “Who the fuck are these wankers? You think you’re the shit now, do yuh?”

Harry pulled him away, and Eggsy fought with every ounce of his power not to attack Dean there and then.

“Fucking faggot, always knew you was a fucking faggot, from the day I came and starting fucking your mum- you’re just a piece of cock-sucking shit, Mugsy, ain’t never going to do nothin’ with your life.” Eggsy tried to ignore the deluge of shit coming from Dean’s mouth. “Should’ve fucking killed you when I got the chance-”

“Right, that’s it,” Harry announced, passing Eggsy to Roxy who was wide eyed, head snapping from Harry to Dean and back. Harry rolled up his sleeves. 

“Harry,” Merlin warned. Gawain held Merlin back. 

“Let him.”

“Fucking hell, Harry, don’t,” Ryan said. “He’s just a stupid cunt, Harry-”

“And what the fuck do you think you’re chattin’? I could tell your father plenty of shit you wouldn’t want him to know, yeh?” Ryan faltered and took a step back, Jamal grabbing his arm in support.

“I think we’ve had enough of this,” Harry said calmly. He didn’t seem even remotely drunk. 

“Oh yeh? What you gonna do ‘bout it, you poof?”

Harry smiled cruelly. “I haven’t planned it quite yet. Let’s see where the night takes us, shall we?”

Harry punched Dean in the face. Straight on, fist in gob, teeth knocked out kind of punch. Dean’s lackeys took a frightened step back. The punch had been lightening fast. Dean’s hand went up to his bloody mouth, and found one of his front teeth missing. 

“Yeh- you fucking remember him now, don’t yuh?” Eggsy shouted, Ryan and Roxy holding him back. Eggsy laughed as Harry gave Dean a swift kick in the balls, watching him collapse to the ground in agony. The rest of his men merely bent down to help him, or ran away.

Harry rolled down his sleeves, buttoning them up again. “That was mildly disappointing, actually,” he commented dryly, joining Eggsy again and winding an arm around his waist. 

Needless to say, that it was an eventful night. He and Harry crashed in his room when they got home, Jamal and Ryan asleep on the sofas. Everyone else retired to their own beds.

It had been the best night of his life- and he made sure to tell Harry before he passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get pretty intense.
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments- I hope you've enjoyed it thus far!

“It’s going to be OK, Harry,” Eggsy whispered, his body so cold it had gone beyond the point of being able to shiver. Harry was limp in his arms. He couldn’t even feel him anymore. Everything was numb and dead. But at least they’d found each other before it was too late. 

 

_Two days earlier._

“This is an in-out mission, boys,” Merlin said into Eggsy’s ear over the sound of the plane roaring through the sky. “Fletcher’s base is only occupied by three people at the moment, judging by the body count I’m seeing. Make sure you don’t kill him- no point in this if you bring him back dead.”

The plane door opened between them, the floor suddenly opening up to reveal a blanket of white, broken up with jagged mountains. The cold hit Eggsy like a flurry of arrows. Harry went to stand by his side, looking down with equal interest in the scene. 

“Let’s fucking do this,” Eggsy shouted over the engine. Harry offered him to go first, extending a polite hand to the gaping exit in the plane floor. Eggsy saluted. That was the last he saw of Harry before it all happened. He heard the missile before he saw it.

“Eggsy, Harry, there’s-!”

Harry grabbed him and hurled them out of the plane- but not quick enough. The blast pushed them apart, and Eggsy felt himself being hurled through the clear sky, no idea which way was up or down. 

“FUCK-” he screamed, gasping with the shock and drawing in a freezing, needle like breath of air that stung him inside and out. Tumbling, out of control, he couldn’t see how high up he was from the group, where he was going, if he was going to collide with a mountain, or where Harry was. He heard Merlin shouting at them both, and knew what he was saying without really hearing. He tried to catch the air with his limbs in a hope that this would create a small enough amount of friction that he’d realign his trajectory, and quickly he managed to get a sense of where the ground was- although he was still spinning wildly. He knew he had to deploy his parachute very soon- the blast had sent him plummeting more quickly than if he’d merely jumped. 

Eggsy fumbled for the parachute release, streamlining his body and seeing that he was far too close to ground for this to be a comfortable landing. Luckily he’d had practice there. The chute burst open and jolted him enough to make him go ‘oof’, but his descent was too fast for it to be in any way controlled. He braced his legs, aiming for a patch of thick snow, unfortunately veering into several fir trees on the way. They scratched and tore his clothes, leaving his bloody skin open to the frozen air.

When he finally hit the ground, he fell through several feet of snow, creating a tiny avalanche that blanketed him with a thick sheet of the stuff. He breathed in the frozen water, spluttering and shaking when he emerged. Gasping, desperately detaching himself from the chute, Eggsy managed to stand up and examine himself.

Only a few scrapes. Painful- he hissed as he gently touched a gash on his arm- but they could get a lot worse if he was out here in the cold too long. 

“Eggsy?” He heard the familiar Scottish accent.

“How did they know?” Eggsy croaked, scanning the area. He was in the middle of fuck-off nowhere. 

“I have no idea, lad,” Merlin said apologetically. “They might have found out somehow that you hacked Fletcher’s computer- some technology I haven’t come across yet.”

“You’re joking,” Eggsy muttered as he fashioned walking sticks out some nearby fallen tree. 

“It happens sometimes,” Merlin said, still a touch of an apology in there mixed in with humour. “Harry’s a few miles off, you both need to find each other if you can and we’ll get you.”

“What direction? I have no fucking clue where I am.”

“You have a compass in your watch- head north east.”

Eggsy rolled back his sleeve and examined the watch Merlin had got him for his birthday. “Shit- I almost left this at home, didn’t want it getting smashed or something. I forgot to take it off.”

“I would never by you a breakable watch, Eggsy,” Merlin said, apparently offended. “This journey isn’t going to be easy, Eggsy. It may be only fifteen miles between the two of you but there are a lot of mountains and inclines.”

Eggsy let out a measured sigh. “Could be worse.”

“Don’t say _that_ ,” Merlin complained. “Just get going before it gets dark.”

“That’s good,” Eggsy said, the cold beginning to seep through the initial shock. His breath was clouding his vision, and every inhalation burned. “I want to travel at night anyway. Might as well be moving when it’s coldest, yeh?”

“Good plan,” Merlin conceded. “I’m going to check on Harry. Good luck.”

“Is he OK?” Eggsy stopped in his tracks, having started to walk through the trees that had attacked him, up an indefinitely high slope. “What do you mean check on him?”

Merlin paused. Eggsy didn’t like that. “He’s fine. He’s probably broken his leg. He’s making a splint as we speak.”

Eggsy growled with frustration and stress, marching up the hill again and letting his breath warm his face. “Fucking hell. Go on then. Tell him he’d better fucking get a move on.”

“Will do,” Merlin ended, another touch of affectionate humour to his voice.

And then he was alone. Eggsy forced his way through the trees, checking his watch occasionally to make sure he was staying on track. After a few hours of hiking, his sweat freezing on his face, he leant against a tree and let some water melt in his bare hands, tearing his gloves off. He drank what he hoped was pure water. There didn’t seem to be many animals around so fingers crossed he didn’t just ingest yellow snow. 

By now he was getting really _fucking_ cold. He didn’t know how cold it was exactly, but this was in the mountains in Russia. It was definitely well into the minuses, anyway. The parachuting gear wasn’t bad- there was a hood to protect his ears, and goggles too, though they were cracked now from the impact. He had gloves too. But none of what he was wearing was very thick- or heavy- for obvious gravity reasons. And those were now slashed from crashing through the trees. He was going to have to figure out something- like find an animal and kill it for its fur, with the poison tipped dagger he had holstered at his ankle. Gun would make too much noise and cause an avalanche. 

Eggsy’s teeth began to chatter. He was about as watered as he could be without freezing his hands. Hauling himself upwards- his limbs were stiff from cold- he trod up the hill. Or was it a mountain? He wouldn’t know until he could make out how high this fucker was and how high he was already. Looking down, all he could see was trees and the distant clearing he’d landed in. 

When night fell- and it came early, it being Russia- Eggsy worked through the painful cold that threatened to seize up his joints. He focused on the laboured sounds of his breath.

“Eggsy,” Merlin announced.

“Merlin- how is he?”

“He’s fine, how are you holding up?” 

“Cold,” was all Eggsy could say, or think.

“We’ll have a plane with you in a couple of hours.”

“What’s taking so long?” he chattered.

There was a pause and a weary sigh. “The data that you and Harry mined at the gala seems to have spread a virus in our system when we accessed it at HQ. It’s made finding a plane with working computers rather difficult.”

“You’re fucking joking.” Water was beginning to soak into his ‘waterproof’ boots. At this rate, he was going to be frostbitten. 

“Afraid not,” Merlin replied. “Looks like Fletcher triggered it when you went down; he really doesn’t want you to get out of this alive.”

“Why did he make the data so easy to access it if he was only going to fucking plant a virus anyway,” Eggsy muttered, quietly with the effort of climbing up the hill. 

“He’s a vindictive wanker who prioritises having intruders dead.”

Eggsy thought about Dean and all the other druggies he knew. “He enjoys revenge.”

“Precisely. I suppose he’s willing to risk getting hacked if it means people get hurt for doing it.”

“Sounds familiar- and fucking stupid,” Eggsy added as an afterthought. D- druggies are stupid even if they pret-t-tend they ain’t.”

“Eggsy?” Merlin asked with concern. “You need to find an animal skin somewhere.”

“Oh yeh- I’ll just f-fucking pop to the shops, yeh?”

“Surely there are animals around?” Merlin said ignoring Eggsy’s quip.

Eggsy took this statement in. “Can’t you see where I am? C-can’t you see there ain’t no animals?”

“…No, not as yet- our sensors have gone down with the virus.”

“Fffffucking-”

“We’re working on it,” Merlin added quickly. 

“S’Harry alright?”

“He’s getting there,” Merlin said with some obscurity. 

“Well tell him to hurry the f-fuck up with his broken leg,” Eggsy joked. “I ain’t walking fifteen f-fucking miles up hill.”

Merlin huffed a quiet laugh. “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough doesn’t apply here?” 

“F-fuck off, Aretha Franklin never fucking tried it.”

Merlin laughed out loud this time. “Eggsy, I have to go, look after yourself and try and find an animal of some kind. Try not to sweat too much.”

“I’ll stop sweating when I stop c-climbing this fucking mountain.”

“Good luck,” Merlin left with.

The walk through the night was awful. He was lucky it wasn’t pitch black- the moon was out and dazzlingly bright. Didn’t mean it was freezing cold, though, and he shivered enough to feel like he was having some sort of seizure. So he didn’t stop. His pace became sluggish towards the end of the night, his footprints in the snow more like train tracks as he dragged his feet, the occasional handprints sprinkled down the mountain from where he fell down onto all fours in exhaustion. 

Merlin hadn’t called in for a few hours. Eggsy supposed he was alone now. 

Except that there were hoof prints in the snow. Big hoof prints; an ox or a caribou. Eggsy followed the prints uphill until he came to some sort of ice shelf. At least the tundra wasn’t entirely mountainous. There in the distance, beyond several bushes, was a caribou and her baby.

“Awww, Jesus,” Eggsy moaned. Well, when he was freezing to death and in need of warmth, killing mummy caribou was essential. Baby caribou was good as dead without her, so many it could be dinner, if he could manage to make a fire. Suddenly, he felt he understood the final Kingsman test a little better. 

If he was going to eat something, shooting them rather than poisoning was a safer bet. And they were on an ice shelf; hopefully if he could muffle the shot- the only thing he had to do so was a compact ball of snow- no avalanche would occur. It was a bet he’d have to take.

The shot was clean- straight to the brain. Mum collapsed and babe went straight after. He was a predator, trying to survive- that was all. Eggsy told himself this as he emptied the insides of the large caribou and took cover inside the body. It was fucking awful and made Eggsy dry heave for a good half an hour before he fell asleep in exhaustion.

When he woke up a few hours later, in the afternoon, he was freezing again. The inside of the caribou had started to develop bloody crystals. He crawled out to find baby nicely preserved. Now it was time to light a fire.

He swept and dug until he created a patch of ground in the snow. Plucking what was dry off the bushes surrounding him, the spent a good hour trying to light a spark. Thankfully, there wasn’t much wind, and the kindle didn’t blow out; he had a good fire within fifteen minutes. Cooking the caribou took longer but it worked. Eggsy ate enough to warm himself up and energise himself and stored away the rest in his pocket for emergencies. It wasn’t like it wasn’t going to freeze in his pocket anyway. Shit would probably last months. 

The sun set late afternoon. Eggsy began to march north east again, across the tundra and thankfully towards a downwards incline, wearing the caribou’s hide. Where was Harry? How far could he get with his leg the way it was? Would he be able to keep warm if he was injured, unable to walk the way Eggsy could? He decided it wasn’t worth waiting to find out and walked and walked until he reached the bottom of the valley, with running water. He drank his fill and climbed up a tree, sitting on something that wasn’t freezing cold snow.

“Harry,” he whispered to himself. “Please be OK.”

Eggsy estimated that he’d probably walked about seven miles north east, if he considered how many inclines he was trekking across. If he kept his energy up, he could get to Harry in another day. With this in mind, he clambered down the tree and waded through the ravine. His feet were numb by now anyway. He couldn’t feel a thing. He took that as a very-not-good sign. 

But this was the wild, and it was never so simple as getting from A to B. He felt bad for all the fuckers who’d died in the Russian winter during the war, now. He wondered if they also got attacked by polar bears, like the one that was padding and snuffling it’s way down the ravine towards him. 

Eggsy froze on the spot. What the fuck are you meant to do when it was a bear? Stay put and don’t move? Or fucking run? 

There was no way he could use his gun here. He didn’t have time to compact snow and create a shitty muffler. A poison dagger was going to have to do. 

Before he could decide whether to run or not, the bear caught whiff of him and cantered over, making grizzly, hungry grunts as it did. Eggsy sprinted towards it, numb hands fumbling for the dagger. He forgot about the crystalized sweat on his face, the cold seeping through the crack of his goggles and freezing his exhausted tears, and the stumbling of his dead feet. He jumped out of the way of the bear’s pounce, latching onto it’s flank and stabbing with the dagger, clinging on to it like a rock climber as the bear thrashed and roared. It rolled onto it’s back in an attempt to wrestle Eggsy off, crushing his hand under it’s weight and pushing the dagger’s hilt into his hand. Eggsy cried out, trying to free his arm, but before he could the polar bear threw a powerful, clawed hit to the intruder’s thrashing legs, tearing his trousers and releasing a spurt of blood at his thigh.

Blind with pain, Eggsy wriggled out from underneath the bear, and before he could formulate some sort of attack in his mind, the bear collapsed. The poison had worked. 

But so had the bear’s claws. Eggsy collapsed to his knees, tearing off a strip of his already tattered sleeve and tying it tightly around his dribbling thigh. The cold had made his blood slow and thick, but that didn’t mean it was coming out at a frightening pressure. This was sure to leave him legless if help didn’t come soon. The white snow, streaked with bear and human blood, surrounded Eggsy for what felt like forever. There was no end to the cold. It settled on him that this was probably where he was going to die, and he found himself without any tears, or lamenting. This was what he’d signed up for. His only regret was that he might not be able to find Harry in time.

Harry. 

That pulled him out of his delirium. Vision swimming, blood seeping through the improvised bandage, Eggsy walked. He walked and walked and he now knew exactly what Aretha Franklin was singing about. 

 

Eggsy woke up to find himself lying in a snowy forest. He hadn’t remembered collapsing. It was beginning to snow, and when he creaked open his eyes he saw an icing sugar sprinkle of the stuff on his crushed, gloved hand. 

His breath wasn’t warming up his face anymore. He’d stopped shivering. All that was left was a lifeless body, with a sluggish mind stuck inside it’s frozen shell.

“Hhh…” he began. He’d been thinking ‘Harry’ and he’d tried to test if his lips would move and say the word out loud. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there. His entire body was numb- including his bloody leg. That made him grateful for the cold. 

Craning his head up, Eggsy saw a cave. A cave that he’d been dragging himself towards before he blacked out. His legs were never going to obey his mind’s orders, no matter how he tried. At this point it wasn’t just a matter of motivation- it was physically impossible. What he could do, though, was slide his one crushed hand across the snow in front of his face, his good hand pulling him up the snowy, twiggy incline. He flexed his shattered fingers, something he could probably only do because he couldn’t feel the pain, and dug them into the snow. His other leg helped the only way it could, driving the heel down and pushing him up. The time passed slowly and quickly at the same time. It was a strange sort of eternity, a limbo, one that did eventually end but seemed to repeat itself like a broken tape. 

The cave was icy. It was probably cold. He could see inside from the few feet he was away from the entrance, but his gloves weren’t helping him climb; they were pulling themselves off with every tug at the ground. Eggsy half-heartedly shook them off, barely surveying his blue fingers- one of them black- before finishing the last leg of the climb. 

There was a heap at the back of the cave. It was a bundle of black parachute gear, and Eggsy could sense Harry breathing rather than see it with his blackening vision.

Time jumped forward and Eggsy was wrapping himself around Harry, who was freezing cold but blissfully warm compared to the snow. It woke the man up.

“Eggsy?” he croaked.

“H-Harry,” Eggsy stuttered, with new found energy. “It’s going to be OK, Harry,” Eggsy whispered. 

“I don’t think it is, darling boy.” Neither of them were shivering, only whispering weakly. Their bodies had given up on trying to stay warm.

“I found you,” Eggsy said uselessly. As if it meant anything, now. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry managed. Eggsy peered over the canvased shoulder, and saw the man’s torn up suit and unnaturally askew leg. The splint had broken. 

“Don’t be. I’m here now. I’m here.”

“I couldn’t. I tried,” Harry whispered. “I’m so sorry… that I couldn’t find you.”

Each sentence was bracketed with silence, a quiet that was not there for a lack of things to say, merely the time taken for each man to gather the effort to speak. 

“You travelled six miles… with a broken leg… you’re a hero…” he couldn’t see anymore. 

Had his eyes closed?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's been reading this! I had great fun writing it... I live for this pairing

_Harry._

The boy’s frozen arms were wrapped around him. He had been able to feel his chest move against his back before. Now it was so faint that he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not. 

“Eggsy…”

There was no response. He could feel himself blacking out and thought about how much he’d deserved it for making Eggsy walk so far to find him. He had come here to rest for an hour or two, only to wake up to the boy surrounding him with his faint body heat. Now he could feel him slipping away and his eyes were too cold to cry.

“Eggsy…” he tried, but the boy was falling away. Harry used his last ounce of energy to turn himself around and cradle him, in some small hope of sharing his warmth with him. Now he could see Eggsy’s face, and not just his blackening hands, he could see his blue lips, his eyelashes sprinkled with ice, and Harry choked on the frozen air. Laying his forehead on Eggy’s, he tried and failed to pull himself out of the surrounding darkness.

 

A deafening roar. Masked faces. A ventilator breathing for him. Merlin’s eyes peering through a mask over Harry.

“He’s alive, thank fuck- what about Eggsy-?”

“He’s stabilized-”

 

When Harry eventually wakes up he’s in the medical bay at HQ. He can tell because he can hear Merlin muttering to Naja at the back of the room. The fluorescent light makes it hard for him to open his eyes, and suddenly everything comes flooding at once. The intense pain in his extremities, the stickiness of his mouth, his lungs stinging with every breath. 

Merlin notices he’s awake before he can do or say anything. He’s at his side at once, hand on his arm. Naja looms over him, flashing a light in his good eye and doing several tests which he can’t concentrate on. Harry tests his tongue.

“How long?”

Merlin smiles briefly, relief flooding his expression. “Only a week or so. That was a close call Harry. Too close.”

“You need to stop almost dying, Harry,” Naja quipped. 

Harry swallowed, blinking in the bright light. “Eggsy?” he croaked. Merlin and Naja exchanged glances, Merlin’s grip tightening subconsciously. “Tell me.”

“He’s non responsive,” Naja began, and Harry didn’t have to be entirely mentally present to know what that meant. He shut his eyes and laid back his head in his pillows. He couldn’t bear the sight of anyone or anything. 

“Superficially, he got a pretty nasty bit of frost bite- lost a finger and a couple of toes. He’s also going to have a nasty scar, from what looks like a bear attack- but it’s the… it was the blood loss that’s got to him.”

Harry didn’t hear the young doctor choke on her emotions as she gave the diagnosis. “He’s in a coma. There’s no sign of infection…” The rest dribbled off into nothing, Harry focusing on his measured breathing and the pain that went with it.

 

Physiotherapy was difficult. His leg was healing nicely, which was lucky considering the how nasty the break was and how long it took to receive medical attention. Naja tried to move him to his own room but he wouldn’t hear it. Merlin complained that assisting him on his physiotherapy with Eggsy there was only distracting him, holding him back. Harry made it quite clearly that he wouldn’t accept any other form of recovery.

Harry wanted to shave, to maintain some modicum of decent appearances, but it hurt too much to shave. After a while that didn’t stop him. The pain of it was a sweet distraction. Merlin accompanied him in his recovery every day, updating him on Fletcher’s position. By the time that Harry had had his cast off, Gawain and Percival had caught the drug dealer. When they got what they needed from him, they killed him. Merlin didn’t tell him much else. 

Eggsy wasn’t growing a beard. Harry supposed he was too weak for his body to do anything so unimportant. The boy’s face was growing gaunt and pale over the weeks that he’d been unconscious. It looked unnatural- for someone so full of life to be fed intravenously, tubes and wires tangled all over his body, chest rising and falling to the sound of a ventilator. So artificial for someone so authentic, true through and through. 

In between physiotherapy and visits from the other Kingsmen- more often than not, Gawain and Roxy- Harry was sat by the boy’s side. The hand that hadn’t been cast was warm with life- life that couldn’t make its way to the surface. Eggsy seemed so vacant of life, and it was easy to believe that he wasn’t really there at all until Harry held that hand. He wasn’t going to be happy when he woke up to find he was missing a pinky finger. 

The idea that he wouldn’t wake up was being firmly pushed back in Harry’s mind. It barely seemed possible. This boy had defied all the odds thrown at him, and to suggest that he would do anything other than bounce back to normal life with his usual mischief and tenacity was insulting to everything Harry had come to believe in. If he had every found faith in anything, it was this boy. This beautiful man who had slept in the bed next to him for the past two weeks. 

But there was always that fear- it crept up on Harry at night when he didn’t have the energy to push it back. It loomed over him and hid in the dark corners of his private room at Kingsman, where he’d been transferred. It pulled silent, choking tears out of him and taunted him with a future that could never be. It dosed his mind with nightmares, with memories of Eggsy losing life as he held him close, of Daisy without a father. It pulled him out of his nightmares with screams and cold sweats that sent Merlin running to his aid, holding Harry as he tried to breath through the half conscious sobs.

Eggsy was the antithesis of death. It was an impossibility that he wouldn’t pull through this. But he wasn’t improving. He was slipping away from Harry with every second. 

He hadn’t even told him how much he loved him. 

 

Two months and Harry was walking without difficulty. But he wasn’t healed. He sometimes thought he could feel the frostbite crawling back into his fingers, the needles of pain creeping back when he didn’t expect it. Naja explained that it was psychological; probably PTSD related. He hadn’t been to a single one of the counselling appointments Merlin had organised for him. 

Eggsy was much the same. Chest rising and falling unnaturally. No movement, not even REM. 

One night, Harry, Merlin, and Gawain decided to share a drink at the end of Eggsy’s bed. He wasn’t dead yet, but Harry knew that Gawain and Merlin were silently thinking that he might as well be. The Lagavulin had been poured. 

That was why Harry wasn’t convinced when Gawain said, “He’s strong. He’ll pull through.”

Merlin merely stared into his glass. Harry knew the man better than Gawain, and could tell that there was an ocean of emotions that he was holding back for Harry’s benefit. 

“We were going to move in together.” Harry only registered that he’d said it out loud until he noticed the two Kingsman looking at him- without surprise or pity. It was a time to share stories of Eggsy, and they waited for him to continue. Harry supposed they had planned on him talking- ‘letting it all out’, as such. 

“We were going to move in together,” he repeated with more conviction. The words began to pour out more naturally than he’d expected, or wanted. “He was going to move in with me, more accurately. Daisy as well, of course. We had been arguing the day before about what he would do with some of his furniture, which wouldn’t fit.” His gaze moved from the white wall to the pug that slept by Eggsy’s feet. Harry gave JB an absent minded stroke. The pug didn’t move; he was just as morose as the present company. “He had managed to convince me that we ought to invest in our own things, that we’d picked together. I saw no point at the time.”

Gawain and Merlin were attentive, silent, looking at him. Harry couldn’t look back. He knew he’d always emotionally distant, even with Merlin. He cared immensely, and those who knew him well could read his happiness, his fear, sadness, anxiety. But this was a level of personal information that he had shown before. When Merlin and he talked about personal matters it was always accompanied with a dry sarcasm, or a full on argument. There was a certain keep calm and carry on attitude that he couldn’t shake off from his upbringing.

But now- now he found random memories and feelings dribbling out of him. 

Harry smiled, looking into his glass which he cradled with both hands. “Eggsy has always been so infuriating,” he began, causing Gawain to hiccup a quiet laugh. “He has a certain way of making me laugh, or feel intensely cross- and I won’t realise until after it’s already happened. So much of our time together has felt like an out of body experience.” The boy’s heart-beat beeped in the background as he spoke. “He made me the most awful mix-tape a few months ago. Quite awful… I think he knew that I would hate it, which drove him to make it even more.” 

He noticed a tear drip onto his lap, making a small, dark circle of moisture on his grey trousers. 

“Never have I met someone who could…” he trailed off. He didn’t want to finish that sentence. Gawain and Merlin waited patiently. “Terrified of commitment,” Harry said instead. “He was so determined that we see each other, and yet absolutely terrified to accept my invite to move in with me. Whenever I’ve suggested anything vaguely related to our future, it’s left him uncomfortable for days. I think he’s only just started to accept the he actually has a future to plan.” He swallowed down the pain that was rising in his throat at that thought.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Gawain said simply.

Harry shook his head resolutely. “I should have kept going. I shouldn’t have stopped.”

“You did keep going, Harry. It’s not your fault that you passed out.” Merlin spoke without hesitation. 

“He dragged himself up the ravine,” Harry said grimly. “He was barely alive as it was. And I couldn’t even get to him, for a broken leg.”

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Harry?” Gawain leant forward, putting his glass aside. “You know you couldn’t do anything else. It’s pretty damn impossible to trek through snow if you can’t stay conscious, old man.”

Harry’s gaze was set firmly on the clinical, white wall, but it wasn’t what he was seeing. He could only see Eggsy’s blue and black hands holding him. 

“We couldn’t reach either of you, anyway.” Merlin had said these words hundreds of times but there was no frustration to his voice. “We wouldn’t have been able to save either of you any sooner. We all did what we could.”

“And don’t you think that you wouldn’t have kept going if you really could?” Gawain added. “He’s your world, Harry- you’d do anything for him. I don’t need to tell you that.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak. He hesitated. “If…”

“If you hadn’t recruited him in the first place,” Merlin continued, “he’d either be miserable, or dead by the hands of his stepfather.”

Harry’s breath quivered. He knew this was all true. These thoughts circled his mind every day- but they had no impact against the crushing guilt that choked him every waking moment. 

There was nothing else to say on the matter. There was nothing that would change how he felt, not even logic. He should have done something. 

Roxy knocked before coming in. The three men watched her come in, her arm bandaged from a mission she’d just returned from. Everyone knew there was no point in discussing Eggsy’s status- he hadn’t changed, and probably never would. Roxy sank onto the boy’s bed, and began to brush his hair tenderly. She had been washing his face and brushing his hair every day that she could. JB gave her elbow a quick lick.

Harry spoke again. “Eggsy said that if anything should happen to him, I should take Daisy. Particularly when his mother is in rehab or working night shifts.” He released a breath that he’d been holding in, though he hadn’t realised he’d been doing it. 

“And we’ll all help,” Gawain said. 

Harry remembered his upbringing, his time as an orphan when he was very young. He wouldn’t wish that kind of loneliness upon Daisy. Not another child without a real parent. 

And that was it. That was all it took to think before it came out. It was so automatic that Harry couldn’t stop himself. “They’re both gone. I’ve killed both of them- Eggsy and his father.”

“Oh God, Harry,” Merlin whispered. “You know that’s not true.”

“I brought them both into this,” he replied bitterly. _And I don’t think I can live with myself for it,_ he thought. 

“You didn’t force him to do anything,” Roxy croaked from the bed. “Eggsy never did anything he didn’t want to do, and you know it. He’s here because he chose this life, we all are. Don’t you dare make it seem like his whole life has been dictated by your actions.”

Finally, someone talking to him bluntly, giving it to him straight. Harry was grateful for it. 

“You need to get a grip, old man,” Gawain followed suit. “You’re both agents, you both chose Kingsman for your own reasons. You cannot carry on telling yourself that you’re responsible for this.”

God, he knew they were right, as well. The selfishness of it all sickened him. “I love him.”

“We all do,” Gawain whispered. 

 

Four months had passed and Naja had broken the news to the Kingsmen. It was time. 

Harry and Merlin wanted to be there. Roxy, Percival and Gawain couldn’t, knew it wouldn’t be worth the pain. But Harry had to stay, and Merlin had to stay with Harry. The sound of Eggsy’s hear rate had become so normal to Harry’s life, that the idea of it gone made Harry’s hands shake as they rested on his umbrella handle. They stood at the end of the bed, Eggsy’s face as pale and gaunt as ever. 

Naja paused by the machines, taking one last look. She glanced back at the two men. 

“Are you sure? There’s no going back when I switch the machine off.” 

Harry swallowed, jaw clenched. There was no reason to keep him going like this, with nothing left. The boy wasn’t really there. Only a ghost of a shell that seemed cruel to cling onto. Merlin didn’t even look at Harry when he gave Naja the nod.

She flipped the switch and they waited. Harry watched the line of Eggsy’s heart rate begin to falter. It seemed to represent the end of everything. 

A frown flickered across Naja’s face. Her fingers found Eggsy’s pulse at his wrist. For a few moments, no one spoke. 

Eggsy’s heart-beat was maintaining a regular rhythm. 

“What’s happening?” Merlin demanded. Harry found he couldn’t speak or move, his eyes drying from lack of blinking.

“I- I don’t know,” she faltered. “This shouldn’t be happening- he shouldn’t be able to be breathing-”

“Well, he bloody is, isn’t he?” Merlin replied. “Why the fuck is he still breathing? How did you not catch this?” 

Harry’s body finally began to respond and his umbrella fell to the floor. He marched to Eggsy’s side, stroking his forehead and pushing back a mop of hair from his pale face. There was warmth there. 

“I don’t know, this is one in a million- a billion,” Naja said, her voice climbing in volume and pitch. She swiftly grabbed her torch and tested his eyes’ responses. “This is incredible. He wasn’t responding yesterday. He’s- he’s responding.”

“What does this mean? What does this mean?” Merlin parroted, hands holding onto the end of Eggsy’s bed. 

“It means- if he can breath by himself- it means he’s improving. It means he’s-”

Eggsy’s fingers twitched, and then his hand clenched. 

“My God,” Harry croaked. “Eggsy? Eggsy?”

“Eggsy, can you hear me?” Naja stated professionally, testing reactions and knee jerks. He was moving. “I can’t believe this.” 

Merlin spun round and called the other Kingsmen- who were currently sitting around the round table, waiting for the news. When Gawain took Merlin’s call, his voice was quiet and grim. “Merlin,” he said simply.

“He’s back,” Merlin jumped in. “He’s bloody back. The bastard is breathing on his own.”

There was commotion in the background as several of the Kingsman seemed to stand up, chairs scraping. Roxy audibly gasped in the background. 

“He’s _what_?” Gawain cried. 

Merlin didn’t waste time in explaining- he knew they’d all be running down within a few minutes. 

Harry could register this happening, but all he could focus on was Eggsy’s eyes fluttering. REM. 

“Harry, I need you to move over,” Naja demanded. He backed away quickly, allowing Naja to inject Eggsy with something that she had been saving for this exact moment- a formula that she and her nurses had been coming up with together, exclusive to Kingsman. She stepped away, moving to the boy’s wrist and measuring his pulse. “If this doesn’t work, nothing will happen. If it does-”

At that moment Eggsy coughed and spluttered, body convulsing in attempt to remove the tube from his throat. Naja leapt to the task, carefully pulling out the ventilating tube- everything had happened so quickly that they hadn’t even had time to remove it yet. Eggsy’s pale face filled with colour as he tried to breath, gulping in air and fists grabbing at the bed. His eyes snapped open and his gaze span round the room wildly. All the while, Harry was frozen on the spot, Merlin standing uselessly at the end of the bed.

“Eggsy, I need you to look at me- you’re OK, Eggsy- you’re in the medical bay-”

 

 

It had been dark and silent, he didn’t know how long. An eternity? A day? An hour? A minute?

And then Naja was staring down at him, and her face swam into his vision. The fluorescent lights lit her up like an angel. He felt like his chest and lungs were on autopilot, he could feel it rise and fall quickly out of his control, and he fought to breathe more slowly with Naja’s guidance.

“You’re OK, Eggsy- you’re in the medical bay-”

“He’s awake?” he heard from the background. It sounded like Merlin. 

“What’s you’re name?” Naja asked calmly, shining a torch in his eye. He squinted. 

“E-Eggsy,” he faltered, feverishly trying to turn his aching head to look around the room. “What happened-? Where’s Harry?”

And suddenly Harry’s face was there, replacing Naja’s, looking down at him- but it didn’t really look like Harry. It looked like a skinnier, paler version of Harry. His eyes were bloodshot. 

“Eggsy? My God-” he laughed weakly.

“You look like shit,” Eggsy managed. Harry’s smile barely faltered, before he started shaking his head in pure amazement. 

“You are un-bloody-believable.”

His tongue was like sand paper and he was convulsively swallowing, trying to bring back moisture in his throat and make another attempt to speak. Naja, being an excellent doctor, gently guided a straw into his mouth. The water was blissful.

“What the- what the fuck happened?”

All Eggsy could remember was being fucking cold, and intensely, desperately sad. He’d thought Harry was going to die. He was convinced they were both going to. “You’re alive,” he stated, looking at the uncharacteristically dishevelled Harry. The man only laughed again. 

“You bloody, fucking miracle,” Merlin laughed at the end of his bed. He couldn’t tilt his head up enough to see him. 

“Merlin?”

“Yes, boy, it’s me,” Merlin said gently, appearing at the edge of his vision, opposite Harry, who couldn’t stop staring at him- one hand was covering his mouth, the other cradling Eggsy’s face. Merlin took off his glasses and stealthily wiped a tear away. 

Harry had been crying. He was trying hard not to right now, in fact. Eggsy had never seen anything like it from the man and it scared the shit out of him. 

“How long have I been out?” he asked. Naja replied, who was fiddling with the machines by his bed and taking down stats. 

“Four months,” she said, her veneer of professionalism finally cracking, betraying a tearful wobble in her voice. “You’ve been in a coma, on life support.”

“Life su-?” A painful cough interrupted him, and Naja returned to his side, feeding him more water. Harry wasn’t moving anywhere. Merlin’s hands were both perched on top his bald head, as if trying to contain the amazement and stop it from blowing up out of his cranium. 

“You scared the shit out of us,” Merlin said, before Roxy burst into the room.

“Eggsy? Eggsy- oh my God, Eggsy!” She pushed past Merlin, who happily let her. She grabbed one of his hands and looked down at him with tears. She gave a small sob before she spoke again. “We thought you were gone.”

Eggsy stared at the faces that were surrounding his bed. Gawain, Roxy, Naja, Harry, Percival- they were all staring at him like he’d performed the impossible. His expression must have been obvious, because Harry said, “We thought you were brain dead. We were shutting off the life support machine before you…”

Harry didn’t finish his sentence. Merlin finished for him. “… Before you started breathing for yourself. And now you’re alive. You’re bloody awake and alive.”

It was too much to take in. He was in a coma? For four months? They were shutting his life support off? 

“Bloody hell,” Gawain laughed, “You absolute bastard. Don’t you dare do that to us again.”

Eggsy blinked- it was a strange feeling, as if he had to practice doing normal bodily actions again- and shook his head weakly. “I’m sorry I almost died, yeh? I’ll just not, next time?”

“Fucking yes,” Roxy demanded. Percival gave a stern nod of agreement.

Four months. It must have seemed pretty hopeless if they were shutting off his life support. And that’s when it started to flood back to him. The trek through the snow, finding Harry half dead in the cave. Holding him as he passed into the darkness. His gaze slid wearily over to Harry’s.

“You were dying,” he said with a childish simplicity. 

“We both were,” Harry replied more calmly now. “Merlin found us just in time.”

“Cut it a bit close,” Gawain added, which resulted in a stern glare from Merlin.

Four months was a long time. A stab of panic in his chest: “Daisy?” Eggsy managed before coughing again. 

“Jamal and Ryan are taking turns looking after her, as well as us. She’s been getting a lot of love,” Naja smiled. “Although Jamal and Ryan aren’t very happy with us- all we’ve told them is that you’ve been away on a mission and it’s taking longer than expected. They’re going to be so relieved.”

Now he could see a bit better, he noticed that everyone was on the brink of tears, or already crying. They all liked awful. “I’m sorry,” Eggsy said. 

They stared at him wordlessly. Harry coughed a short, bitter laugh.

“I beg your pardon?” he said simply.

“I’m – I’m sorry that- I don’t know, I just am.”

Harry looked as exasperated as ever, making Eggsy grin cheekily at him. “Bloody typical,” Harry muttered.

There was a moment of quiet before Gawain was taken by a wave of hysteria- which quickly infected everyone else in the room. The hospital wing was filled with the sounds of their relieved laughter.

 

EPILOGUE

The bar rolled underneath Eggsy’s grip as he gained momentum, spinning onto the bar below him. He cut through the air sinuously. For so many years Eggsy had missed the uneven bars, gymnastics in general; the friction that built in his palms as he and the bars defied gravity, the strength of his body soaring through the air. Even with a missing finger after his little encounter with frostbite, it’s just as powerful a feeling. The warm air in the Kingsman sports hall was whooshing past his ears as he picked up speed and launched himself of the bar and onto the top bar. 

Three more spins, and he spun off and landed on both feet effortlessly. Well, it looked effortless. It was actually fucking hard. Panting, he dusted his hands off and padded over to the pommel horse. 

Harry had come in at some point. He liked to watch him from time to time, although Eggsy didn’t like it. It gave him stage fright.

“’Ey,” Eggsy said.

“Looking good,” Harry commented.

Eggsy snorted. “As if you’d be able to tell if I was shit or not,” he replied. “You don’t know nothing about gymnastics.”

“I’ll have you know, I watch it every time the Olympics come on,” Harry retorted and Eggsy laughed. He planted a greeting kiss on Harry’s cheek. 

“Everything alright? Got a mission?”

“No, not as such. I’ve actually come to talk to you about something.” 

There was a nervousness to Harry’s expression that he only ever saw when Eggsy was angry with him. They sat down at the edge of the gym, Eggsy taking a swig of water.

“What’ve you done this time?” Eggsy asked.

“You have so little faith in me,” Harry smiled deviously.

“Well, what is it, then?” he began to stretch his arms as he waited for Harry to stop acting weird and get on with it. He was hesitating quite a bit though, and that was strange. 

“Well, we’ve been together a few years now, and… oh, fuck it, nothing to lose.” He pulled out a small box from his pinstripe suit pocket, sliding down onto the floor- on one knee.

Eggsy went wide eyed, bracing himself on his seat and gripping to the sides as if he might fall into oblivion any moment. 

“Er, Harry…”

“Eggsy Gary Unwin,” he began, eyes shining with anxiety and anticipation behind the glasses. Behind the glasses…

“Fucking hell, are your glasses on?” 

Harry opened his mouth to respond wittily, only to freeze. “Oh, bugger.”

“Fuck,” Eggsy gasped. He shook his head and waved his hands frantically and whipped the glasses off, turning them off and putting them down beside him. “We’re not gonna live this down are we?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” Harry croaked. He snapped the box open.

“ _Jesus,_ ” Eggsy cried, leaning forward. “There’s a proper ring and everything-”

“Eggsy, really, may I?” Harry interrupted. “I’m trying to propose to you.”

“Er, sorry, yeh,” Eggsy nodded, puffing his chest out and wiping his powdery hands on his lycra in an attempt to prepare himself. “Go on.”

“Eggsy Unwin,” Harry tried again. “Will you marry me?”

This was it. Roxy had told him this would be happening soon but he didn’t believe it. And you know what? He was OK with it. Scared, yes, but- OK. Very OK with it.

“Yeh,” Eggsy said, sounding surprised. “I mean, yes,” he corrected. “Yes.”

Harry exhaled harshly. “Thank God.” He took the ring out of the box- it was a silver love knot- and slid it onto Eggsy’s powdery finger. 

“Sorry, my hands, they’re, uh,” he tried. “Talcum powder.”

“It really doesn’t matter, Eggsy.” They stood up and surveyed each other, and Eggsy’s newly ringed hand.

“Well, fuck,” Eggsy managed. Harry tilted his head up and kissed him. “Now what?”

Harry tilted his head and looked over Eggsy’s shoulder in thought. “I would say we break the news, but I would have thought everyone has already found out.”

“Merlin wouldn’t do that,” Eggsy said, more in an attempt to convince himself.

“Merlin would,” Harry corrected. That was the moment that Gawain and Roxy came running in cheering. 

Eggsy shook his head in quiet awe. “Merlin has.”


End file.
